Fifty Shades of Christian
by Authoress of Darkness
Summary: The whole time through Fifty Shades of Grey, we saw everything from Ana's POV. But what about Christian? What was his take on everything? Maybe we saw his actions, but what was going on in his head? So here it is - Fifty Shades of Grey - from Christian's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay! This is my first story on here as Authoress of Darkness, and admittedly it's a big one. However, I felt it imperative to write; I cannot be the only one who was reading through the whole time and wondering what was going on in Christian's head. Any one with me? **

**Well, from the scenes at the end of Fifty Shades Freed, we have some insight in his head and the fact that maybe EL will continue from his POV - but maybe not. Surely those little scenes aren't enough for everyone?**

**I'm not going to pretend I'm amazing at this or that I'm EL, but, I think it's worth a shot to try. I hope no one objects, and even better, you guys like it. So picking up from where she left off with him - him leaving Clayton's - I'm going to give us the rest of the story from Christian's POV.**

**Enjoy, everyone! **

**~Authoress of Darkness**

**PS: I will, obviously, be needing to quote and use scenes, names, lines, and characters from the books verbatim, so I will try to remember to add heavy disclaimers if not on evey chapter, every few. I don't want anyone coming at me for plagarism. ;)**

**Disclaimer: EL and co. own all publicly recognizable characters, places, things, concepts, etc. All rights reserved - I own nothing! **

AS I PULL OUT of Clayton's, I grab my phone and dial Taylor's number.

"Yes, Mr. Grey?" he asks, in greeting.

"Taylor. I'll be staying in Portland for..." I pause and consider it. How long am I going to stay? Regardless of whether Miss Steele calls, a few nights away won't hurt. I really should visit the farming division while I'm up here. "...a few days. I'm going to need you to bring me some things. My laptop, some clothes... The usual."

"Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"No, not at the moment," I reply. Then, after I pause for a beat, I add, "thanks, Taylor," and hang up. Normally I don't bother with such formalities, but I felt it was in order now. For Taylor at the very least.

I put on the radio and try to focus on the music, but my mind still manages to drift back to Anastisia. Christ, I really hope she calls. More than I care to admit, I do. I've talked to this woman a grand total of two times, and she's managed to get under my skin so deeply I can't get her out if my head.

Am I even capable of leaving her alone? Do I want to? That answer is obvious. No. I don't. I want Anastisia Steele. She seems to want me too - right now. But as soon as she finds out what I am like, what I want to do to her, will she? Who am I kidding? She will probably run away screaming... If I even get to the point where I get the chance to tell her. Which is not going to fucking happen unless she calls me for that damn shoot!

Shit. I'm getting worked up over nothing again. Maybe I need to schedule another session with Flynn. Yeah, that will do me a lot of good when I've already made up my mind not to talk about her to him. I'll just end up getting hounded about what I'm hiding and more of his shit.

The Heathman comes into sight as I'm pondering these thoughts. Good, I'm finally here. I'll be in the same neighborhood as Miss Steele. Maybe tomorrow, depending on whether or not she calls, I'll scope out her house while she's at work - make sure she's living someplace safe. The idea that she might not be is apalling.

I park outside the front door of the Heathman and quickly make my way inside, opening my wallet as I walk. With a quick flash of my ID and an exchange of some cash, I'm on my way to the penthouse suite at the top of the building.

Just as I step in the elevator, my phone rings again. Who the hell is calling me now? Anastasia? I swipe the thought down as soon as it occurs. No, too soon... Or is it? My brain is telling me it's probably Taylor, while my heart is telling me otherwise. _Oh, you've aquired one of those now_?

Scowling at the thought, I answer my phone without checking the number. "Grey," I bark, my tone clipped and harder than I meant for it to be.

"Er... Mr. Grey?"

Oh shit! It's Miss Steele!

"It's Anastasia Steele."

_Oh, trust me, baby, I know._ "Miss Steele. How nice to hear from you." Unconsciously, my voice has warmed, and I curse myself for letting my surprise break into my voice as my heart pounds. Does this mean we're going to get to do the shoot?

"Um—we'd like to go ahead with the photo shoot for the article." _Yes_! _Thank God_! And she sounds so breathy... She's probably blushing right now, knowing how much that happens with her. I open my mouth to answer, but she continues before I can. "Tomorrow, if that's okay. Where would be convenient for you, sir?"

I swallow down my smile. Christ, what she does to me. I am surprised at how much I love hearing her voice, especially when she calls me "sir". I could get used to that. I _want_ to.

"I'm staying at the Heathman in Portland." _As of about five seconds ago. And it's all because of you, baby. _"Shall we say nine thirty tomorrow morning?"

"Okay, we'll see you there," she says, and my heart leaps. More proof that it's still there and beating even though I could swear that it's not.

"I look forward to it, Miss Steele."_ More than you know. _I grin widely when I hear her breathy exhale, and then the phone disconnects.

I disconnect on my end as well, suddenly in a much better mood. The elevator dings, and I go in and flop down heavily in one of the armchairs, intending to rest for a while until Taylor got here - but not before going in and saving Miss Steele's number in my phone first.

THAT NIGHT, I'M RESTLESS. Despite the fact Taylor brought me my favorite, most comfortable lounge pants to sleep in, and the bed that the penthouse in Heathman provides is comfortable, I just can't find sleep. It's eluding me. And I know it's not worry about the photo shoot - it that damn girl. I can't wait to see her.

But, be that as it may, I'm not loosing sleep over her. No fucking way. Not now. Climbing out of the bed, I find my phone and call Taylor for some NyQuil. As soon as he delivers it, I take the highest dosage I can, and climb back into bed. As soon as it kicks in, it doesn't take long for me to pass out.

THE NEXT MORNING, I wake up at ten after nine.

Shit! Maybe I shouldn't have taken such a high dose of NyQuil after all. I usually don't sleep past eight, if that late. _Great work, Grey_, I scold myself inwardly, as I rush out of bed to the shower.

After a brief, 9-minute shower, I throw on my gray flannel pants and a white shirt. Before I can button it up or do anything with my hair, my phone rings. What the hell?

I storm out into the bedroom and swipe it up off the desk, about to answer, but then pause when I see the ID. Anastasia. As I answer now, I make an honest effort to soften my tone.

"Grey."

"Mr. Grey! It's Anastasia Steele again... We're downstairs setting up. Come down when you're ready; we'll be about ten minutes still."

"Of course, Miss Steele. I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Okay. We're in the suite below you. Bye," she mumbles, and hangs up.

Fuck... The suite below me?

"Mr. Grey."

I turn around. Taylor must have just entered the bedroom, and now he's standing in the doorway, watching me with crossed arms. Did he just get here? Or was he here all night? He didn't stay here, in this suite, at least.

"Morning, Taylor," I mutter, moving past him to find my shoes. "I take it you're ready?"

"I am."

"Good. I will be shortly." Making a split second desicion, I decide not to bother with my hair, as I'm running late and it will be a wild and unruly mess no matter what, and instead fish around for my shoes some more. I find them by the armchair and slip them on, then pace over to sit down and put them on. Taylor grabs my jacket and offers it to me, but I wave it away for the moment as I lace up and button my shirt. I leave the collar button undone. I always do.

Pocketing my phone as I move, I turn to Taylor once more. "Alright. Ready. Let's go."

**Short chapter for starters. Sorry about that. Next chapter is longer, I swear - it's already written. It includes Ana, an angry Christian, a photo shoot, a coffee date, and an awkward romantic situation. Anyone want it?**

**Feedback and critiques are welcomed - please, just generally even, let me know what you think. Is it any good? Worth continuing? I can't wait to hear you're thoughts and opinions! Talk to me, folks! ;)**

**~Authoress of Darkness **


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm really excited at all the positive feedback this story is getting! I have no complaints so far, from any of my readers or generally myself. I'll make this short and sweet because I'm sure you guys want to get reading, and I don't have much time - hence there will be no italics or alterations in this chapter. Sorry guys. I'll fix it later if I have time, swear.**

**Speaking of time, you'll need a bit of it to read this chapter - it's a long one. Don't say I didn't warn you! ;)**

**Enjoy! And please R&R! I love to hear your opinions and thoughts, and of course criticism is welcome!**

**~Authoress of Darkness **

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, TAYLOR and I enter Miss Steele's suite. It's nice - the second largest one in the building. What did it take to get this, I wonder?

Miss Steele and a strawberry blonde woman I don't know but assume can only be Miss Kavanagh are standing on the far side of the room, talking to a tall, tanned boy who looks to be about their age. He has dark hair and eyes that match, and his muscles are clearly visible under his shirt. Christ, another possible boyfriend? Where is Welch getting his facts? And why the fuck does Miss Steele have to know so many attractive young guys?

I march over to her, and she looks up at me with her wide, beautiful blue eyes and blinks a few times before swallowing. I am fighting down a grin as I extend my hand. Good. She still hasn't quite become oblivious to my charms. "Miss Steele, we meet again."

Slowly, she grasps my hand, and then shivers and blushes, her breathing speeding up. It's not quite audible, but I can see her chest moving up and down at a fast pace. And what a beautiful chest it is...

"Mr. Grey, this is Katherine Kavanagh," Anastasia says suddenly, her voice low. She waves a hand toward the blonde - ah yes, I was right - and Katherine comes forward. She meets my eyes and reaches for my outstretched hand.

"The tenacious Miss Kavanagh. How do you do?" I ask. This time I don't hide my smile, but it's more a result of her audacity than anything. "I trust you're feeling better? Anastasia said you were unwell last week."

"I'm fine, thank you, Mr. Grey," she replies as we shake. Her hands are soft and firm, and she doesn't break eye contact with me throughout the questions. The apple really must not fall far from the tree... At least in her family. She's a spitting image of her father, right down to the blonde hair and businesslike demeanor. Now this girl I could see writing for the newspaper.

"Thank you for taking the time to do this," Kavanagh continues. I nod as I release her hand and break eye contact with her.

"It's a pleasure," I murmur, looking at Anastasia. She flushes furiously and turns away, towards the boy.

Uh-oh. I can feel my blood heating up.

"This is José Rodriguez, our photographer," Ana introduces, grinning at the boy. For some reason I am really getting the feeling he's more than just the photographer. Possibly because of the affectionate smiles they're exchanging right now. I clench my fists in my pockets and glare at him briefly, until he turns his gaze on me. His eyes flick from me to Anastasia coolly, and I work to make my face impassive, all the while coming to a sudden decision in my mind - I'm not letting her leave with him. I'll find a way to make certain it doesn't happen. A coffee date, perhaps?

"Mr. Grey," he says, and nods.

"Mr. Rodriguez." I don't even nod back at the prick. Instead I take a breath a plunge on. "Where do you want me?" My tone is a lot harder than normal, but I don't care now. He doesn't have to like it, he just has to photograph me and get away from my Anastasia. Fucking bastard.

Luckily for the both of us, Katherine steps in before he can answer.

"Mr. Grey—if you could sit here, please?" she asks, pointing to a chair against the wall on the far side. I follow her finger with my eyes and slowly begin to make my way toward it. "Be careful of the lighting cables. And then we'll do a few standing, too."

I nod and sit down, looking up to speak just as the lights flick back on. Christ! That idiot just blinded me! Rubbing my eyes irritably, I ignore his apology and look away, blinking the rest of the spots from my eyes.

Rodriguez -aka the prick- starts naming off poses and ordering me to sit this way and that, snapping pictures all the while. I clench my jaw and scowl inwardly, but keep my demeanor cool and complacent on the outside. A few times my eyes drift, and I look at Anastasia. Both times I meet her eyes, she blushes and looks away first. This makes me feel very satisfied for reasons I don't quite fathom.

Just as she looks away the second time, Miss Kavanagh steps in.

"Enough sitting," she announces, locking eyes with me again. My lips twitch in amusement. "Standing, Mr. Grey?"

Obligingly, I stand, and the man who blinded me with the lights before runs over to grab the chair. No sooner do I turn back to the camera, José Rodriguez starts snapping pictures again.

"I think we have enough," he calls out, five minutes later.

"Great!" says Katherine excitedly, walking up to me and shaking my hand again. Rodriguez follows in her wake, and I reluctantly shake his hand again, squeezing it maybe a bit tighter than necessary. He glares at me as Katherine continues talking, oblivious. "Thank you again, Mr. Grey."

"I look forward to reading the article, Miss Kavanagh," I reply, my eyes shifting from her to Anastasia. She was the only one who hadn't came over, instead holding firm in her position by the door. My lips quirk up into a half-smirk at the sight. "Will you walk with me, Miss Steele?"

She blinks, looking taken aback, and for a moment I think she's going to turn me down. "Sure," she finally says, after a brief hesitation. Yes! Score! I nod, and walk over to pull open the door. She steps out as I turn and call out, "good day to you all." Except the prick photographer...

I walk out calmly and wait for Taylor before letting the door fall closed. "I'll call you, Taylor," I tell him. He nods, obviously picking up on his dismissal, and begins to walk away as I look at Anastasia. She's fidgeting nervously, and I smirk inwardly again at the knowledge I'm making her squirm. Then I pause. What the fuck, Grey? That's mean and sadistic. Didn't you want her to like you?

Shit...

"I wondered if you would join me for coffee this morning," I say to Anastasia.

She starts and blinks, again looking shocked by me. Then she clears her throat and shakes her head slightly, looking down at her knotted fingers. "I have to drive everyone home," she says quietly, looking apologetic.

Fuck! She is going to ride back with that photographer! Not on my watch. I contain my scowl of displeasure and look behind her at Taylor, who's still walking away.

"Taylor," I call out, and he pauses and turns on his heel towards me. I see Anastasia jump from the corner of my eye and frown as I look back down at her.

"Are they based at the university?"

She nods.

"Taylor can take them. He's my driver. We have a large 4x4 here, so he'll be able to take the equipment, too," I explain. She looks like she's going to object, but Taylor speaks before her.

"Mr. Grey?"

"Please, can you drive the photographer," just thinking about him leaves a bad taste in my mouth, "his assistant, and Miss Kavanagh back home?"

"Certainly, sir."

"There." I look back at Anastasia and smile at her still-shocked expression. Yeah, baby, I have that power. Give in to it. "Now can you join me for coffee?"

She frowns, and I see quite a bit of disapproval mixed in with the shock in her expression. It irritates me, but I hide it well. Did you ever think maybe she doesn't want to go to coffee with you, Grey? Wait.. She does, doesn't she?

"Um—Mr. Grey, er— this really... Look, Taylor doesn't have to drive them home." She glances nervously at Taylor, but he gives nothing away. Shit, she really doesn't want to go, does she? For a moment, doubt shoots through me. And then... "I'll swap vehicles with Kate if you give me a moment."

This time it's my turn to be shocked. I stare at her for a second and then grin hugely. My face feels like it might split in two from such a wide smile, but I can't control it. Thank God, she said yes! Then, like a gentleman, I push the door open and incline my head, indicating she should go in. She walks past me into the room again, and I let the door fall closed behind her.

I lean up against the wall and look at Taylor, who's still standing there, and wave him off. "I've for it covered now," I tell him, still grinning. "I'll call you later."

He nods and hurries off.

When Taylor has just disappeared completely from view, Anastasia reappears. I look down at her and raise and eyebrow, and she flushes beet red. I'd like to make her skin that color red... And I could do it right here, right now, with just my hand..

"Okay, let's do coffee," she murmurs breathily, and I feel my huge grin return.

"After you, Miss Steele," I say as I stand up off the wall, gesturing with my hand. She turns her back on me slowly and starts walking down the hallway. I follow her, taking in her slight form as we move. She looks paler than usual, but not by much, and her chestnut hair is tied back again in a low ponytail. She's wearing the same navy jacket she wore when she interviewed me, and a pair of denim jeans with a leafy green shirt to top it off. If she feels my eyes on her, she doesn't give it away, nor does she look at me. She seems lost in thought, and though I'm tempted to ask her what she's thinking, I decide not to pry at her.. For the moment anyway.

"How long have you known Katherine Kavanagh?" I ask. I want to know more about her, but I don't know enough to know what subjects are entirely safe to ask about. Maybe if I warm up some casual conversation I'll get an idea.

"Since our freshman year," Ana replies, slightly dreamily. "She's a good friend."

"Hmm," I murmur. Since freshman year, and she's graduating this year. It's been quite a while. Almost as long as it's been since I've known her father.

When we reach the elevators, I walk over and press the button, then step back towards Ana. It dings, quicker than I thought it would, and as the doors slide open I see a young couple inside, hanging on to each other in a passionate embrace. They both jump about five feet away from each other when they see us, obviously embarrassed, and I can't fight my smirk as I step in to the elevator.

From the corner of my eye I see Anastasia staring at the ground, and discreetly trying to glance up at me in such a way I won't notice. She's flushing pink again, such a beautiful shade, and she's got that submissive look - her head tucked down, shoulders slumped, eyes wide, face red... I groan inwardly and look away. Christ, she's getting to me, and we haven't even made it out of the hotel yet; can I make it through coffee without loosing my control?

The rest of the elevator ride is quiet and uneventful. As the doors open, I take a risk, and reach for Ana's hand, wrapping my own around it. It's soft and warm still, although slightly wet, giving away her nervousness. Although I try to mantain a straight face and not give away how much this and the fact that she doesn't pull away pleases me, the grin I want to suppress breaks free and takes over my face as I hear the couple giggling behind us.

"What is it about elevators?" I murmur, genuinely curious but having no answer to my question as the elevator doors close behind us.

Looking around, I lead Anastasia across the busy lobby toward the exit of the hotel. There's a regular set of double doors there with the hotel name written in the window, and a revolving door, which I avoid as soon as I see it. I don't want to release her hand, but holding on to it will be excessively difficult the other way.

I hold open the door and let Ana go out first, then follow her, taking a breath of fresh air as I do. It helps clear my head, and I feel my equilibrium and control start to return to me as we walk. Fuck, where's the nearest coffee shop? Portland Coffee House, I think, and it's about five blocks down.. Well, at least the traffic is light.

I turn left and lead her out to the crosswalk, impatiently waiting for the light to change. To pass the time I glance down at Ana. She's staring out at the cars and traffic, looking slightly dreamy again, and she is wearing a huge grin, probably a lot like what mine looked like when she agreed to do coffee with me. The thought makes me smile slightly again too, and I glance back up in time to see the green man appear. Perfect timing.

She trots along behind me as we walk through the streets, following me without a word the four blocks down to the coffee house. Does she know where I'm taking her? I assume so, since she doesn't question me, but who knows?

I release her once we get to the front door of the shop, holding it open again for her as she enters. She walks right past me, still grinning, and then turns to face me when I follow her in.

Shit-she's so pretty, standing right there in the light. Beautiful, even, more so than normal. She smiles at me, and I supress the urge to grin back as I say, "why don't you choose the table while I get the drinks? What would you like?"

"I'll have... um—" she thinks for a second, "English Breakfast tea, bag out."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. I thought this was a coffee date? Wait, when did it become a date? When you asked her out. Shit. That's surprising. Why didn't I think she might consider it a date? When did I start considering it a date? Do I want it to be a date? Does she? Or maybe it's not a date; could I consider it an interview? Well the substitute for my normal interview...

I shake my head slightly to dislodge the thoughts and ask, "no coffee?"

"I'm not keen on coffee," she replies sheepishly.

I smile. Ha! Not keen on coffee? Strange, but there are worse things for her to say.

"Okay, bag out tea. Sugar?"

Her eyes widen and her mouth opens slightly. What's the matter with her? Fuck, did I say something? I want to inquire, but she answers before I can. "No thanks," she mumbles, fixing her eyes down on her fingers. A quick glance proves they're knotted together again - a habit I'm realizing she follows through with a lot when she's nervous. Like the lip biting. Oh, shit, shouldn't have thought about that. Time to move.

"Anything to eat?"

"No thank you," she mutters, shaking her head. She still won't look at me. I frown, then make my way to the counter.

I wonder what set her off a minute ago. I replay the words in my mind, running my fingers through my hair as I think about it. "Okay, bag out tea. Sugar?" What about that... Oh, fuck, she thought it was an endearment! Well, getting a bit ahead of ourselves, are we? Now I know for sure that she's into me. But how far will that go? How long will she stay? Certainly not long after she finds out about my playroom...

Frustrated, I run my fingers through my hair again and sigh as I tell the clerk our orders: Ana's tea - and I make sure to tell her the specific kind and to leave the bag out - and my coffee. I order a blueberry muffin as well, aware that I hadn't had breakfast. All because I was running after you, little Miss Steele.

A few minutes later, she hands me a tray with our orders on it and I pay her and walk over to where Anastasia sat down at. I'm surprised by her expression when I do: she's looking down at her hands again, her face flushed red. What the fuck was she thinking? I look closer to try and decipher her thoughts from her face, and that's when I realize she's biting her lip.

I stifle a groan and curse in my head. Fuck me.

Nevertheless, I want to know where her thoughts are. So as I sit down, I ask softly, "penny for your thoughts?"

Anastasia jumps and looks up at me, flushing deep crimson. Hmm...

Shrugging internally, I grab her things off the tray and place them in front of her, then grab my coffee and my muffin off and set the tray to the side. I pull my coffee and muffin back over to me and look back at Ana, drawing my legs up and crossing them beneath me as I go.

"Your thoughts?" I murmur, gently prompting her to talk. Here we go.

After a moment, she says quietly, "this is my favorite tea."

I look at her, hiding my incredulousness better than my bemusement, and frown. What the hell? There's no way that's what she was thinking that made her flush so red. I open my mouth to inquire as to what really was on her mind, but stop when she moves. She reaches over and grabs the tea bag by the string, popping it into the teapot she'd been given and then almost instantly going to the teaspoon to get it out.

What? That's strange. I watch her place the tea bag back on the plate and cock my head, not even trying to keep the questioning look off my face.

She catches my gaze and shrugs. "I like my tea black and weak," she whispers, almost apologetically.

I nod, deciding not to pry on that. It is her preference, after all. There were more pressing matters to ask about. "I see." And then, unable to control the urge any longer, I blurt out, "is he your boyfriend?"

Smooth, Grey, real smooth.. She blinks at me, looking shocked. "Who?"

"The photographer. José Rodriguez." Cough up the info, Miss Steele.

She giggles slightly, and I'm surprised at it. Such a beautiful sound.. Yet it gives away her nervousness.

"No. José's a good friend of mine, that's all. Why did you think he was my boyfriend?"

Shit. Do I tell her? Nothing serious now, Grey - just tell her the basics. I meet her gaze and hold it. "The way you smiled at him, and he at you."

She shifts nervously, not breaking eye contact. "He's more like family," she mumbles.

Family is good. There's no way a relationship will form with someone she considers family. I nod, happy with this information. Not that a relationship could form anyways, not with what I have in mind, but the point is moot. I need confirmation.

Resisting the urge to sigh, I look down at my untouched muffin and scowl slightly. Where has my appitite gone? Oh, it hasn't gone anywhere, Grey... It's just a different kind of appitite now. Not for food. However, I ordered it - so now I'm determined to eat it. Swiftly, I peel back the paper on it. Feeling her gaze on me, I glance over and can't help the amused smile that tugs at my lips when I see her watching my hands.

"Do you want some?" I ask, trying not to chuckle at her.

She frowns at being caught and looks back down at her hands. "No thanks."

Fine then. I continue on my interrogation route. "And that boy I met yesterday, at the store. He's not your boyfriend?"

"No. Paul's just a friend. I told you yesterday." She sounds irritated with me. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem nervous around men."

She jolts slightly and looks at me. "I find you intimadating," she admits, flushing red again.

Holy shit. Did she just admit that? I breathe in sharply and try to calm my rapid heartbeat and breathing patterns. Well, at least she's honest... And she's not on the wrong path.

"You should find me intimadating." Hell, if you're intimidated now, wait until you see what I can do with a whip or a cane. She looks down again. Taking in her expression, I nod, admittedly also trying to dispel that line of thought. "You're very honest." Maybe too honest. "Please don't look down," I add. "I like to see your face." It gives me some glance into your pretty, confusing little mind.

She blinks and looks up at me, seeming stunned. I smile at her, trying to look encouraging, and softly explain, "it gives me some sort of clue to what you might be thinking. You're a mystery, Miss Steele."

She shakes her head slightly. "There's nothing mysterious about me."

Oh, really? What makes you think that? "I think you're very self-contained," I tell her. She looks confused, obviously not going to speak, so I ramble on. "Except when you blush, of course, which is often. I just wish I knew what you were blushing about."

She still doesn't speak. Watching her, I pull off a small piece of muffin and put it in my mouth. Mm.. Blueberries taste good. Then, unbidden, a thought enters my mind: I wonder what Miss Steele tastes like. Just as good? Or better? Somehow I find it hard to believe she tastes worse.

Oh, fuck, Grey. Control yourself, would you?

As I have the thought, she blushes, and inwardly I smirk at the irony. Ha!

"Do you always make such personal observations?"

Am I making personal observations? They seem normal to me. But I'm a jackass, so it's possible they are personal. "I hadn't realized I was," I reply honestly. "Have I offended you?"

Her response sounds just as truthful as mine. "No."

"Good."

"But you're very high-handed," she adds.

High-handed? Ouch, that stings. And suddenly my face feels warm too. Oh shit - did she really make me flush? Suddenly I feel ashamed again. Am I being high-handed? I suppose I really haven't thought much about how my little interrogation or intimidation made her feel, not until she spoke up. Maybe I should apologize? Nah..

"I'm used to getting my own way, Anastasia," I say, my voice barely a whisper. "In all things." There, that's as close as it gets - and it's the truth, so true. God, if only she knew how much. Again, images of her in my playroom flash through my head - this time suspended on the grid. I grind my teeth together and squeeze my legs closed as she keeps speaking.

"I don't doubt it. Why haven't you asked me to call you by your first name?" she blurts.

Where did that come from? I'm thrown by her sudden forwardness, but nevertheless I answer. "The only people who use my given name are my family and a few close friends. That's the way I like it." As I answer I think back to the one time she'd used my given name - in the elevator, as she was leaving after the interview. I actually hadn't minded terribly then. Maybe sometime soon, baby.

I pick off another piece of muffin and eat it. "Are you an only child?" I ask, to change the subject.

"Yes."

"Tell me about your parents." My voice comes out more demanding than I'd meant for it to be. You can't really order her around yet, Grey. But she still answers.

"My mom lives in Georgia with her new husband, Bob. My stepdad lives in Montesano."

Hm.. Montesano. Not a bad place.

"Your father?" I prompt.

"My father died when I was a baby."

Christ, maybe I am high-handed. Why didn't I think before I asked that? It's not as if I don't know what it's like, and anyway, I should have guessed she didn't say something about him for a reason. "I'm sorry," I finally mutter.

"I don't remember him," she says quietly, as if to reassure me.

Well, at least she doesn't seem to be holding if against me. "And your mother remarried?" I ask, now treading more carefully.

She snorts. "You could say that."

Can't I get a straight answer from her? It wasn't a hard question. I frown and rub my chin softly. "You're not giving much away, are you?"

"Neither are you," she tosses back, not sounding apologetic.

"You've interviewed me once already, and I can recall some quite probing questions then." I smirk at her, aiming to make her squirm. I know she'll get the reference and understand exactly what I mean; the exact question I'm referring too.

Instantly, she looks horrified at herself, and I feel a pang of guilt. Making her squirm is one thing, making her feel bad about herself is another. Shit. I think about apologizing again, but she plows on, seemingly trying to cover her embarrassment.

"My mom is wonderful," she states. "She's an incurable romantic. She's currently on her fourth husband."

My eyebrows shoot up. Of course, I already know this, curtosity of her background check, but acting like I didn't couldn't hurt. Besides, I really am slightly surprised - that's not the kind if thing most people admit readily. I take a sip of my coffee as she continues.

"I miss her," she whispers, seeming deep in thought. "She has Bob now. I just hope he can keep an eye on her and pick up the piece when her hairbrained schemes don't go as planned." She looks up and smiles affectionately. Ah, she's thinking of happy memories. Good.

Taking another sip, I ask, "do you get along with your stepfather?"

"Of course," Ana blurts. "I grew up with him. He's the only father I know."

"And what's he like?"

"Ray? He's.. taciturn."

Ha! That'd be where she gets it from. But still, there should be more to it. Is she hiding things again? "That's it?"

She shrugs at me. I narrow my eyes and look away. She is hiding stuff. She knows more.

"Taciturn like his stepdaughter," I mutter, slightly teasing, but also probing. I want to know more; I need to.

She looks irritated with me. "He likes soccer - European soccer especially - and bowling, and fly-fishing, and making furniture. He's a carpenter. Ex-army." She sighs.

Ah, now we're getting somewhere. I file the information away and keep talking. "You lived with him?"

"Yes. Mom met Husband Number Three when I was fifteen. I stayed with Ray."

What? Why? I frown, confused. "You didn't want to live with your mom?" I ask, to clarify.

"Husband Number Three lived in Texas. My home was in Montesano. And... you know, my mom was newly married." She stops suddenly. Perhaps these are bad memories for her?

My suspicion is only confirmed when she looks up from her tea and meets my eyes. Changing the subject, she says, "tell me about your parents."

Oh, turning the tables. Good counterattack, Miss Steele. Taking a sip of my coffee, I shrug uncomfortably. "My dad's a lawyer, my mom is a pediatrician. They live in Seattle."

She seems deep in thought. Considering my answer, perhaps?

"What do your siblings do?"

Ah, she must have remembered me mentioning them in the interview. Elliot and Mia.

"Elliot's in construction," I state, "and my little sister is in Paris, studying cookery under some renowned French chef." Ugh, Mia. I love her dearly, but some of her choices astound me. Why am I still entertaining this topic, anyways?

"I hear Paris is lovely," Ana murmurs suddenly, obviously deep in thought again. Come on, baby, tell me what you're thinking...

Memories shoot back to me, and I mutter an agreement. "It's beautiful. Have you been?"

"I've never left mainland USA," she replies. Her eyes are narrowed. Suspicious, Miss Steele? You should be.

I make an attempt to throw her off with distraction. "Would you like to go?"

"To Paris?" she squeaks, looking surprised. Ha- it worked. Good work, Grey. After a second she nods. "Of course. But it's England I'd really like to visit."

England? I cock my head to the side. Why England, specfically? Absentmindedly I run my finger over my lip, thinking. She did say she was interested in British Literature.. "Because?" I press.

She blinks a few times, seeming confused, as if it should be obvious. "It's the home of Shakespeare, Austen, the Brontë sisters, Thomas Hardy. I'd like to see the places that inspired those people to write such wonderful books."

This is good and bad news, on a few different levels. Good because I could do England, and because now I have a confirmation of what kind of books and things she's into. Bad because of course, it means she's into the hearts-and-flowers types. Fuck me.

Lost in thought, I am startled as she jumps and glances down at her watch. "If better go," she mutters. "I have to study."

"For your exams?" Christ, I'd forgotten. Where was my head?

"Yes. They start Tuesday."

"Where's Miss Kavanagh's car?"

"In the hotel parking lot."

"I'll walk you back," I say, shocked slightly by the fact that again I realize I don't want her to leave.

She accepts this with no argument. Good. "Thank you for the tea, Mr. Grey."

Tea? From what I could tell it could barely be called tea. But I don't say so, instead smiling down at her and replying. "You're welcome, Anastasia. It's my pleasure." Hell yeah it is. "Come," I order, well aware my voice sounds commanding, but not caring as I out my hand out. She takes it almost immediately and follows me without a word out of the coffee shop.

We walk quietly back towards the hotel. Again I look down at her, taking her in. She seems happy, for the moment. Only as I have the thought do I realize we both left our beverages on the table, and I didn't get to finish my muffin. I food... To distract myself, I look down at Ana again and come up with a random question. "Do you always wear jeans?" I blurt.

"Mostly," she replies, without looking at me. I nod and look out at the road. We're stopped at the same intersection we stopped as before, waiting for the light to turn green.

Apparently it becomes Anastasia's turn to blurt out a random question now, although I know in my head it's not actually random.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she blurts.

My lips twitch in of something resembling a smile, and I look down at her. "No, Anastasia. I don't do the girlfriend thing," I tell her softly. Her eyes get slightly wide. Fuck, though - for her I might. Would I?

I don't get much time to ponder it, however, because then Ana pulls away from me. She starts to move forward, and I go to release her hand just as she trips and goes head first into the road.

I react without thinking. "Shit, Ana!" I exclaim, and jerk her back towards me without restraint. She comes full force back into me, and I hold her tightly, resisting the urge to bury my nose in her hair and hold her tighter as a cyclist whips past. She's already flat against my chest, crushed there, and I intend to keep her there for a moment.

She buried her face in my chest and inhales deeply. I breathe in sharply and push her back slightly, trailing my fingers down her face. My breathing hitches as I run my thumb along her sweet, alluring lower lip... I look into her eyes, normally bright blue, now darkened with a shadow of fear and something like desire. I feel the pain and fear unfurl in my stomach as well. If something had happened... That cyclist had hit her.. God, the thought it too painful. I already want to go up that fucker off his bike and kick his sorry behind.

Her eyes break from mine and move down my face, and I know her gaze is locked on my lips. I stare down at her and I can see the pleading look in her eyes. I feel my own darken and narrow. Fuck, I want to kiss her, just as much as she wants me too, I can feel it. But God, would it be a mistake. I'm aware my breathing has sped up, and hers seems to have stopped altogether. No - I can't do this. I want to.. But I can't.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I want her. I know I do. But I'm not right for her. I can't give her what she seems to want. Hearts and flowers and romance... No, that's just not me. It can't be.

I steel myself, then open my eyes. She's still staring up at me with wide, innocent blue orbs. Fuck..

I need to warn her. Good for her or not, if this keeps up, I don't think I'll be able to stay away.

"Anastasia, you should steer clear of me. I'm not the man for you," I whisper, hiding my pain behind the steel wall of my mind. No, Grey. Fucking forget it.

Her breathing catches again and she frowns. Oh, baby... That look of utter pain and disbelief is almost my undoing.

"Breathe, Anastasia, breathe," I murmur gently. She obligingly takes a breath, then looks at me again. "I'm going to stand you up and let you go," I warn, and then I do just that.

I keep my hands on her shoulders to ensure she doesn't fall, but she holds up in her own, thank God. I examine her, but she seems fine, if a bit hurt by my words. Trust me, baby, it sucks for both of us.

"I've got this," Ana finally mutters. "Thank you."

I blink, surprised. "For what?" That's not what I was expecting to hear.

"For saving me."

"That's idiot was riding the wrong way. I'm glad I was here. I shudder to think what could have happened to you. Do you want to come and sit down in the hotel for a moment?" Gently, I release her shoulders and put my arms at my sides, against my wishes. What I really want to do is wrap them around her.

She shakes her head, not even bothering to articulate an answer. Instead she just wraps her arms around herself and quickly heads out into the road. Did she even check to see if it was safe? Probably not. She seems in a hurry to get away, and yet, I still don't want her to leave. That's fucking selfish, Grey. Crush her feelings and then you want her to stay? Wow. New all-time low.

She stops when she reaches the front of the hotel. I stop next to her. She turns to face me, but keeps her head down. Unfortunately I can still see the heartbroken expression on her face. "Thanks for the tea and doing the photo shoot," she mumbles. Her face stays down, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself.

"Anastasia... I..." Shit.. I can't continue. Why am I so tore up? Fuck, I did this!

She glances up at me again, and I squeeze my eyes closed and run my fingers through my hair again. I can't look at that pained expression in her face, not knowing that I caused it, that I am mirroring on the inside and out. Oh, fuck.

"What, Christian?" Ana snaps. I blink at her irritated tone. She's not really mad, Grey. Anger is a protection device. You've use the same technique many a time yourself, haven't you?

I realize this is true and falter again. What can I say to help with her pain? Nothing, really.

"Good luck with you exams," I say lamely, instead of something stupid.

"Thanks," she says sarcastically. "Good-bye, Mr. Grey."

She turns and bolts down the sidewalk, into the underground garage, and I fist both hands in my hair and tug as she disappears from view. God, what did I just do? I hurt both of us. This is utterly ridiculous. Next time.. Next time I'll warn her from afar. And if she still comes back, is still attracted to me, then I'll let myself go after her. I'll probably just be disappointed, because who am I kidding, she'll probably never fucking be a submissive, especially mine. So it will all be for nothing. But at least Ill be able to say I tried.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, new chapter! So in this we have grouchy Christian, drunk Ana, some books, a silly phone call, and of course Elliot. Gotta love Elliot. ;)**

**I don't think I need to tell you this chapter is a bit long.. It should be obvious. Most of them are. **

**Enjoy! :D**

**~Authoress of Darkness**

THAT NIGHT, I LAY in bed at the Heathman and think. _Next time I'll warn her from afar._ That's what I thought earlier. But how? Does she even want me to make contact with her again? Should I? I really can't blame her if she doesn't - I broke her fragile, innocent little heart. I know as long as I live, I will never forget that haunted, heartbroken, confused look on her face after I said that, after I warned her away from me and refused to kiss her. _Does she know how much I wanted to_? Probably not.

I should make it up to her. I have to. But how?

Maybe a gift? What would she like? I have to think about it for a while - I'm not really sure. I don't know much about her. Do I? No... I've only met her a handful of times, and pried so much information out. So working with what I have... Can I come up with something?

I think for a few minutes, then shoot bolt upright in bed. I know _exactly_ what I can get Anastasia. And even better - I know exactly how I can work a warning into it...

THE NEXT MORNING, I make plans to go visit the farming units while I'm in town. It's what I actually told Anastasia I was here for before - might as well make good on that. I need to get some work done anyway. All this chasing that silly girl and messing around has me preoccupied and out of sorts. I haven't done anything resembling work in three days!

The whole thing is dull and boring. My thoughts drift to Anastasia, and my gift for her. I have yet to order it, but I know what it's going to be. With a little luck, Ana will love it - and heed it.

As soon as I return to the Heathman, I get on my laptop and go on the Internet. It doesn't take long to locate what I'm looking for and place the order - a hefty fee occupanied by a large tip ensures it should be here by Friday. Good. I'll have it brought here and then send it to Anastasia myself, after incorporating my warning, of course.

In the meantime... I scowl at my computer screen. I have work to do.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

_Ugh._ Can't a man shower in peace? For five minutes? God. Apparently not.

Oh well - I stay in the shower. Taylor will get the door. It can't be anything too important or whoever it was would have called in advance.

"Mr. Grey, sir - there's a package at the door for you."

Shit! Maybe it can be - it's my present for Anastasia.

"Just a minute, Taylor, and I'll be out. Go ahead and sign for it."

"Okay, sir."

I turn back and face the wall, taking a deep breath and tipping my head back again. I suppose I have to get out...

Shutting off the water, I get out and slip on my robe without even bothering to dry off, then pace out into the bedroom. Taylor renters seconds after me, the parcel containing my package tucked under his arm.

"Looking to do some reading, sir?" he inquired jokingly as he hands it to me.

I shake my head. "They're not for me, Taylor. They're for Miss Steele."

"Miss Steele, sir?"

"That's the girl I went to coffee with after the photo shoot."

"Ah. She's a pretty one."

"Yes, she is. But I feel like I owe her something, Taylor, so I'm going to send her these. She likes the British novels. Also.." I pause, wondering if I should tell him. "I'm.. going to include a warning. I care about her Taylor, more than I care to admit. I barely know her, and yet she's managed to get under my skin. I... I want her, badly, but..."

"You want her the way you want her, and you don't think she is would be into that."

"Yes." Christ, four years together and it's like he can read my mind. I knew I kept Taylor around for a reason. "Also.. She's so innocent. I don't know if I can do that to her, and lead her down this dark path... Especially not without giving her a few chances to walk away first, and warn her what I'm like." I pause. "In the same sense, though, I can't tell her anything specifically, not without an NDA."

Taylor nods. "Sir, I don't know what to tell you except if you really want this, go for it. Just make sure she wants it too. And give her ample opportunity to express her feelings and walk away if she feels that's what needs to be done."

I stare at him and nod slowly. He really is insightful. "I'm glad we had this talk, Taylor. Please, will you hand me that card and pen over there?"

"Of course, sir." He hands me the white card and my ink pen, and I nod my thanks as I open the package. Then, pushing open the cover of top book, I flip through until I find the quote I'm looking for. Quickly and neatly, I scrawl it on the card.

_Why didn't you tell me there was danger? _

_Why didn't you warn me?_

_Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these tricks..._

I put the card inside, not bothering to sign it. Ana should know who it's from without it.

"Done, sir?"

"Yes," I reply, closing the box again and with a flourish. I write _Miss Anastasia Steele_ across the top, then hand it to Taylor. "Please drop that off at Miss Steele's house."

"Yes sir," Taylor replies, and turns on his heels and leaves the room.

I watch him go, then throw my pen to the side and fall back in the bed. Damn, I could use a nap. I feel especially stressed for some reason. What if she doesn't like it? _No, she will - she has to_.

Taking a deep breath, I shake my head and go to get dressed.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Fuck. Who is it _now_?

Pushing my laptop to the side, I sigh and rub my eyes as I get up. I honestly have no idea who is here - Taylor is away in a room two floors below me, and he would just come in. He is basically the only one who knows I'm here, besides my staff, and none of them would come here to see me unless it was urgent. Even then I would have their jobs unless they called ahead. So who's at the door?

I fling the door open irritably and open my mouth to reprimand whoever is there, then freeze in shock.

"Elliot?"

"Hey, bro! What's up?" He pushes past me without waiting for an answer, looking around and grinning. "Whoa - nice place."

"Elliot, what are you doing here?" I demand, recovering from my initial shock and glaring at him.

"I just came to visit - geez, lighten up," he cajols. "Anyways, what are you doing clear down in Portland?"

"Business," I reply vaguely. No way in hell am I going to tell him the truth - that I ran down here after a girl who I want to be my new submissive. No one in my family knows about that, about my sexual lifestyle, and I plan to keep it that way.

"Ah, man, you're so boring sometimes. What business? Anything I can do? I'm looking for new assignments," he adds.

My lips quirk up at his excitement and candor. "Not unless you're suddenly interested in farming, Elliot. I came down to visits a division that I'm funding in relation to that."

He nods, trying to look interested, but obviously not really caring about the topic. I shake my head and change the topic for him. "So your business is slow lately?" I ask.

"Nah, not really. I'm doing okay. I'm actually pretty packed up right now. We-"

He stops when a clear, loud sound cuts through the room. _Shit, my phone_! Who would be calling me now? Seriously?

I pace over and look down. Holy shit - it's Ana. Why is she calling me?

I swipe it up and answers quickly. "Anastasia?"

Her voice is low and almost indistinguishable to the white noise in the background, and her words are slurred. _Music_? "Why did you send me the books?"

Books? I almost forgot about those. But I'm not worried about the books right now. _What the fuck is wrong with Ana?_ "Anastasia, are you okay? You sound strange."

"I'm not the strange one, you are," she snaps.

I rear back and glare it the phone as a bolt of anger shoots through me, vaguely aware of Elliot staring at me. _What is wrong with her_? Miss Steele's teeth seem to have grown back, sharper than before. _She's got fangs. _

She's not normally so bold. Maybe she's drinking?

"Anastasia, have you been drinking?"

"What's it to you?"

Oh fuck. She may not be drinking, but something is definitely off.

"I'm... curious. Where are you?"

"In a bar."

She _is_ drinking! Fuck! I need to get to her! _Please stop playing hard to get, Ana_! "Which bar?"

"A bar in Portland," she replies. Her words are slurred and almost indistinguishable.

"How are you getting home?" _You sure as hell aren't driving_.

The same thought seems to occur to her, because she pauses before answering. "I'll find a way."

_Like hell you will_! "Which bar are you in?"

"Why did you send me the books, Christian?"

_Dammit! Forget the books! _My temper is really starting to flare up. "Anastasia, where are you? Tell me now," I bark sternly at her. God, at this point, I want to go over wherever she really is and drag her out by her hair. Fuck, even more than that, I want to put her over my knee.. Really, really bad. _You can't touch her until and unless she signs, Grey..._ As much as I'd like too.

But even if she hasn't signed, I want her to, and I want to control her now more than ever. I feel myself going into Dom-mode as this goes on.

"You're so... domineering," Ana slurs, giggling.

_Holy fucking shit_. "Ana, so help me, where the fuck are you?" I growl at her. It's doesn't seem to do any good - unlike normally, she doesn't sound the least but intimidated. In fact, she giggles at me. The sound only helps my temper simmer down a little; about as much as the humour in her statement does.

"I'm in Portland... 's long way from Seattle," she murmurs.

Is she even coherent? I know she's in Portland, and I definitely fucking know how far it is from Seattle. _But I'm not in Seattle, Miss Steele... _"Where in Portland?" I demand._ And if you say in a bar again I'm going to go off the deep end_**.**

"Good night, Christian."

What? No! "Ana!" I shout into the phone, but the line goes dead.

With another vicious growl, I hang up and swipe my phone screen hard, until I find the app I want - a tracking app.

"Christian?" Elliot asks worriedly. "Who was that? What's wrong?"

"A friend!" I snap at him, plugging in the information to track that call. The location of a bar not far from this hotel pops onto the screen, and I quickly read over it before closing out of the app and redialing Ana.

"Hi," she mumbles, on answering.

"I'm coming to get you," I tell her, gritting my teeth. Then, before she can answer or I can say something stupid, I hang up.

"Do you know where she is?" Elliot asks, surprised.

"I just tracked the call. It's a bar a few blocks down the road. She's drunk and she needs help, Elliot. She can't even talk properly, and from what I could tell she's not very coherent." I'm moving even as I speak: putting on my jacket, closing my laptop, pocketing my phone, pulling on my shoes.. My brother is staring at me with wide eyes. "Oh, shut up," I snap at him, even though he hadn't spoken. He doesn't need to - I can read the look on his face. "Yes, I'm rushing off for her. No, it's not normal. But I care about Ana, alright?" There, that sums it up briefly, and warns him against saying anything. _Don't lose your temper, Grey._

"Right," he mutters. "That good, Christian. I'm not going to judge."

"I wouldn't care if you did. I just don't want to hear about the bullshit right now." I pause with one hand on the knob and turn to him. "Are you coming or no?"

"Hm? Oh, yes," he replies, as walks over to me. Not waiting for him to even reach me, I throw open the door and dash for the elevators, barely giving him time to catch up and get in before taking off. _Calm down, Grey. She's not going anywhere. Surely she'll be fine for the next fifteen minutes it will take you to get there.. Right_?

I don't even wait for the doors to open all the way before slipping between them and stalking out. Elliot is hot in my heels. Thank God. If I had to wait for him I'd flip. Then again, aren't I sort of already?

"Where's your car, Christian?" Elliot asks, as we exit the hotel.

"Underground garage," I snarl, heading for the entrance. I know it isn't his fault and maybe I'm being rude, but I'm in a hurry. _I'm coming, Ana. _

I take the keys from my jacket pocket and unlock the car quickly, then jump in and stab them into the ignition. The car rumbles into action with a hiss, and I slam my foot in the gas and swing out if the space.

"Whoa, Chris, slow down!" my brother shouts. "Are you crazy?"

"Maybe," I admit, rolling the windows down to let in some air. It's way dark out now, but I couldn't care less at the moment - I'm more focused on Ana. Is she okay? Has she had more to drink since I've spoken to her? Shit, I hope not, she sounded enough stoned before! The thought makes me want to floor the pedal. However, that's not safe on this main road, busy even at this hour - so with some force and effort, I hold off.

Even with my accelerator up ten miles per hour over the speed limit, it still takes me ten minutes to get through traffic to the bar. I swing around the side and quickly shut the car off, tossing the keys to Elliot as I stormed out.

"What are these for?"

I ignore him, pacing up around the side of the bar. Ana is standing outside... being manhandled by that prick Rodriguez. I feral snarl rips from my throat as I start to pace towards her.

"Go inside," I order Elliot, without looking back at him. "I've got this handled. Just find Ana's friend Miss Kavanagh and let her know Anastasia is unwell."

"How do I find her?"

"Ask around. I don't fucking care. Just do it."

As I get closer to the two of them, I can hear their conversation. Rodriguez has his hand in her hair, fisted tightly, holding her head in place. A bolt of anger shoots through me at the realization, and I speed up. _Keep your head on straight, Grey. Intimadation will be key here. Don't go in swinging._

I want to. Badly. Especially after I hear her soft, pleading voice, beautiful even though her words are slurred - although admittedly more distinguishable in person - ask him to stop and he refuses.

_Holy fucking shit, get your fucking paws off of her, you prick!_ I barely manage to control my self as I hear Ana whisper, "José, no," again, in a pleading tone.

I don't give him a chance to refute. "I think the lady said no," I growl, managing just barely to keep my voice low. I want to shout at him and pounds him to bits and pieces, but I refrain, mostly because Ana is standing there and I don't want her to see it. But fuck, my temper is hot now.

"Grey," he snaps, sounding stunned, but irritated. He releases Ana, and I exhale deeply as she looks up at me with wide eyes. I see it from my side vision, but I don't acknowledge her. I don't take my eyes of the prick next to her, making sure he doesn't dare touch her again. _She's mine. Get the hell away._

I want to say something to him. I want to slam him against the wall and pound his face into it. I want to _fucking kill _him. Ana is the only thing that stops me. And this time it wasn't her presence - I was going to ignore that - but the fact that she suddenly leaned over and puked all over the ground.

"Ugh–_Dios mío,_ Ana!" Rodriguez shouts, jumping away from her. I spare a second to shoot him a death glare, and then move over to Ana. Quickly but gently, I gather up her hair into a ponytail form behind her head and put a hand on her back, pushing her forward into the darkness of the neighbouring lawn's flower bed, and wrap my arm around her shoulders to hold her there. _You're not going anywhere._

"If you're going to throw up again, do it here. I'll hold you," I tell her. She doesn't reply, just squirms slightly, and then vomits again. The motion must have set her off. Vaguely, I watch her as my thoughts drift.

I'm still steamed. I still want to pummel that bastard into oblivion, and I'm still worried about Ana, even though I have her here in my arms now. Shit- did she eat anything? From the looks of it, I don't think she did: the only things that are coming up are an array of liquids, and all too soon dry heaves begin to rack her slight form. I feel her shuddering in my arms, but nothing seems to be left in her stomach. _Oh, fuck - no wonder she's so sick.. _

_Now I really want to put her over my knee.._.

After a while, she stops, putting her hands up on the wall to support herself. At least she hasn't collapsed yet. Sighing inwardly, I release her so she is standing on her own, then pull my handkerchief out of my pocket and hand it to her. She takes it wordlessly and wipes her mouth with it, staring sadly at the ground. What's the matter with her now?

I glance over to see Rodriguez still standing there, watching us, and scowl briefly at him. I'm distracted, however, by Ana, who groans and drops her head in her hands. I look back down at her miserable form and my expression softens. Poor thing.. Not that she probably doesn't deserve it, messing herself up that bad, and I suppose the puking is kind of karma - nature's punishment, I should say. Which I feel is good since I personally am not able to punish her...

She glances up at me and I stare down at her. What does she want me to say? Nothing, I suppose, since she turns and looks at that prick by the door too. I only take slight vindictive comfort in the fact that she's glaring at him.

"I'll, er... see you inside," he mutters. Then he disappears inside, leaving me still glaring at the door after him.

"I'm sorry."

_What_? I look down, surprised to hear her say that. "What are you sorry for, Anastasia?"

"The phone call, mainly. Being sick. The list is endless.." She blushes as she lets it go.

Hm.. This is new. At least she understands she shouldn't have done that. Now I should make her understand way. _Man, I love control._. "We've all been here, perhaps not quite as dramatically as you," I tell her, my voice conveying my exasperation and irritation as I scold her. "It's all about knowing your limits, Anastasia." _Oh the irony of that statement._. "I mean, I'm all for pushing limits-" in the playroom and otherwise, I add mentally, "-but this is beyond the pale. Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior?"

"No," she snaps. "I've never been drunk before and right now I have no desire to ever be again."

I want to scowl at her tone of voice. She's only irritating me further with her attitude and disobedience. What the fuck is wrong with her? Can't she see I'm trying to help her? Of course she still sounds rather funny... Shit! I reach out and grab her before she can fall over. Must be a dizzy spell. I hoist her up and cradle her like a baby against my chest, squeezing her to me. "Come on, I'll take you home," I murmur, my voice softening unintentionally.

"I need to tell Kate," she protests.

"My brother can tell her," I reply irritably. She needs to get some rest. She's drunk and she just puked her guts up everywhere; honestly, I'm surprised she hasn't passed out yet.

"What?"

I roll my eyes. "My brother is talking to Miss Kavanagh."

"Oh?" She sounds confused. _What's not to understand_?

"He was with me when you phoned," I explain slowly. My patience was quickly wearing thin as the night went on.

"In Seattle?"

_Grr_... "No, I'm staying at the Heathman."

She's quiet for a moment as she takes this in, and for a second, I wonder if she actually did pass out.

"How did you find me?" she whispers, after a moment.

"I tracked your cell phone, Anastasia," I tell her, rolling my eyes again. Geez, am I being interviewed again? Why all the questions? Why so fucking _difficult_?

"Do you have a jacket or a purse?" I ask, as it occurs to me that she will need her things if she does.

"Er... yes, I came with both. Christian, please, I need to talk to Kate. She'll worry." Her voice is pleading, but insistent.

Why the fuck did I ever think this woman submissive? Or maybe she's just this way when she's drunk? Hopefully that's it.

Frowning, I let out a deep sigh and set her down. "If you must," I relent finally, knowing she's not going to give in. _Oh, baby, how much I want to fix that, put an end to it - if I could just get her to sign... I could... _I take Anastasia's hand and lead her inside. I don't trust her to stand up on her own, or not get lost in the crowd.

It's loud and crowded again inside, and I glance around quickly for any sign of Kavanagh or Elliot, but I don't see them. Ana takes charge briefly however, pulling me after her to a table I assume must have been hers.

"Where's Kate?" she shouts to a man sitting there. Oh shit - another one?

My blood doesn't even have time to run cold or start to boil, because he quickly shouts a reply to her, eyeing me the entire time. I glare at him as Ana grasps my arm and perches up on her tip-toes. I feel her nuzzling my hair and inhaling deeply as she relays the message that Miss Kavanagh is on the dance floor. _Smooth moves, Elliot.. _

Rolling my eyes, I gently push her down and take her had again, leading her over to the bar.

The bartender looks at me and grins, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. "Get me a large glass of ice water," I tell him.

He nods and disappears to do so immediately. _Good_. Ana needs it. I'm definitely not taking her near the dance floor until she puts something back in her stomach, and something that won't upset it again at that.

A moment later the man reappears and hands me the glass of water. I turn and hand it to Anastasia. "Drink," I order, shouting to be heard above the noise.

She gives me a funny look and obediently takes a sip.

"All of it," I growl loudly, running my hand through my hair. _Dammit, she needs to follow directions! _

She sways a little, looking like she's going to fall off her chair. _Okay, Grey, you need to get this girl in bed. _I narrow my eyes at her and place my hand on her shoulder. She seems to get the message, and she quickly chugs the glass of water. _Ugh, not so quick! What's she thinking? Well, too late now._

I take this glass and place it on the bar, pushing it away absentmindedly and staring at her. She's wearing jeans again. They're splattered with vomit now. Honestly I couldn't care less, but, still, she needs out of here. She needs to change and go to bed.

Tugging her hand, I head for the dance floor. She frowns and shakes her head, obviously not happy with this turn of events. I smirk and tug her hand harder. _Oh, Miss Steele, this was your idea; you're not getting out if it that easy. You wanted to see Kate, now we have to track her down_. Suddenly I pull her into my arms again, and swing her around, starting to move across the dance for while dragging her with me. She doesn't seem comfortable with dancing, and honestly I'm not fond of the idea either. Oh well. I'm leading now; she'll be fine.

It takes another minute to weave my way through the crowd to the back where Elliot and Katherine are, but I manage. When I see himself I get closer, and yell loudly in his ear. "I'm taking Anastasia home. Tell Katherine so she doesn't worry."

Elliot grins hugely at me and nods, pointedly pulling Kate flush against him to tell her. I roll my eyes as she grins and waves at Anastasia.

Good. She knows. Now we can get the hell out of here. I start heading toward the exit of the dance floor, moving faster this time. Ana isn't steady on her feet, I can feel it. She's not going to last much longer.

As I break through the throng of people and go to release her, I realize it wasn't my best idea. Her eyes roll back in her head and she immediately falls backwards. _This isn't good._

I dive forward and catch her, growling as I go. I could give a damn less that we're in public - no one can probably hear me anyways over the music. "Fuck!" I swear loudly, and her body goes limp.

**Yay, another chapter down! What'd you guys think? Did Christian's reaction to José or drunk Ana seem off at all? Let me know what you think! **

**Next chapter: sweaty Christian, a first or two, a little bit of back-and-forths and maybe a steamy elevator scene? Anyone else ready for it? **

**~Authoress of Darkness**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yay! FINALLY I'm done with this chapter! I'm sorry it took me so long, folks - I have school starting back up and my coaches are really cracking down on us with practices because my first football game is in less than a week - generally my time is being more and more devoured by things headed my writing. However, if it helps, this chapter is really long, and as promised, a steamy elevator scene is enclosed! And some other steamy scenes too - some literally steamy.**

**Thanks to everyone who's followed, favorited, and reviewed this far - you've made this so completely awesome! **

**Also, I'm adding a disclaimer following this author's note, since it's been a while since I have. **

**Enjoy!**

**~Authoress of Darkness **

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, places, things, and plot belong to EL James and co. I own nothing**.

OH, SHIT. I KNEW she was going to pass out! But this isn't good.

_We need out of here. Now. _

I scoop her up and cradle her against my chest again, stalking over to the door and swinging it wide open. Pausing outside, I have to wonder what I'm going to do with her. Do I take her back to her house? Or to the Heathman with me? The Heathman sounds like the better option - it's closer, and I can keep an eye on her there.

But how to get there? Elliot will need a ride, and the Heathman is just a few blocks down. Legging it is probably my best bet. Depending on if Elliot actually takes my car or not, I can have Taylor come pick it up for me when I get back to the hotel. And some other things... Anastasia is going to need a change of clothes.

I glance down at her as I head for the intersection. Even unconscious, drunk, and splattered with vomit, she still looks beautiful. Her chestnut hair is splayed out around her head, lose for once instead of tied back. Her face a pale and her huge, insightful blue eyes are closed. So is her over-active, annoying smart mouth...

Why did she go out and get drunk? For celebration? That worked out well - all she did was manage to mess her self up to the point where she vomited all over the place and passed out. Christ, by the time she passed out, she couldn't stand up straight!_ What the fuck was she thinking?_

Between her actions and the actions of that idiot prick she calls a friend, I'm livid. I'd like to kill the fucking bastard, and then spank her pretty little behind to a pretty shade of pink. Hell, I'd like to take her in my playroom and teach her lesson she won't soon forget, but I have a feeling spanking is the safer option - if I take her in the playroom I might loose my control. _If you don't calm down, Grey, you might loose your control anyways. You can't forget she's an amateur._

Ah, right. I really shouldn't forget that; and yet it's slips from my mind every time I get angry. If I ever do get her to sign, I'll have to keep careful control of my temper and keep reminding myself of that.

By this point, the Heathman is back in sight. The night air is crisp, and I can feel Ana shivering against my chest. Shit. I pick up the pace and hold her tighter against me. Her head lolls into my shoulder, and I can feel her warm breath, slow and steady, down my neck. She's still unconscious.

Taylor is in the lobby when I enter the building. I don't know what he's doing; maybe he was looking for me. He glances up when I open the door and immediately comes over to me.

"Sir?"

"My car is at the bar down the block, Taylor. Miss Steele here had a bit too much to drink. I..." I falter suddenly at the realization I left her purse and jacket at the bar, even though she specifically told me she had them. "I left her purse and her jacket inside. Katherine and Elliot may have taken them if they left, if not, they should still be there, and you can ask what you're looking for. Also, please buy some new clothes for Miss Steele. An outfit should suffice; jeans and a shirt should be enough."

"What about lingerie, sir?"

"Ah.. You can get that too. Do you know her size?"

His eyes flit over the unconscious woman in my arms, and he shrugs. "I can guess. She looks about the same size as my wife."

I nod. Admittedly I hadn't thought of that, though it is true - Taylor's wife is a twig too. An older twig, but a twig.

"Alright, go ahead then." At least I didn't have I check.. I don't think that would have gone over well, even if she mustered up the courage to ask. "I'll be in my suite. Come up when you get back."

Taylor nodded, then disppeared out the door.

I look down at the woman in my arms and sigh. _Alright, Miss Steele, let's get you fixed up and in bed. _

AN HOUR LATER, ANA is lying in my bed at the Heathman, peacefully and blessedly unconscious. I took her jeans off and gave them to Taylor to be washed when he returned, and he gave me her clothes and purse, telling my her jacket was hung up out in the lounge with mine.

I hanged her purse up with it, then returned to the bedroom.

Climbing in to bed next to her now, my mind flits back over the day. I don't think 'eventful' is a strong enough word to describe it. Is it? No, I think it is too mild.

Sighing, I glance over at Ana and breathe in sharply. God, she's adorable when she's sleeping! I wish she was mine already. I'd roll over and cuddle her against me and... _Don't get carried away, Grey. Even if she was yours that wouldn't happen, because you don't sleep with submissives, remember? Your own rule. _

I usually don't sleep with women - well, anyone really - so this is a first for me. My submissives have their own room to sleep in, and since that's the only kind if relationship I'm in, there is no one else. I haven't really slept with anyone, let alone a girl, since Mia was little and she would climb into bed with me when she had nightmares. "What are you doing to me, Miss Steele?" I whisper aloud, and then roll over and close my eyes.

THE NEXT MORNING, I wake up with a warm lump lying on my chest.

_Wait... That's not a lump, that's Ana._

Gently, I take her arms and turn her over, lying her back down on the other side if the bed. Poor thing is still comatose. She won't be waking up for a while yet by the looks of it. _Oh well_. That's probably a good thing; she'll probably be hungover as hell when he finally does wake.

Thoughtfully, I stare down at her, then decide to be kind: I go downstairs and buy a container of orange juice for her and some Advil tablets. I guesstimate her weight to be about a hundred pounds, give or take maybe five pounds, and set out that correct amount of tablets. Then I pour the orange juice into a glass and set it on the stand next to her.

There, that should do it. I watch her roll over and whimper something unintelligible in her sleep, then sigh. Yes, she'll be out for a while, and I've got some steam to burn off. Time to hit the gym. I'll shower when I come back. By then, Miss Steele here should be up.

I quickly change into a pair of gray sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt of the same shade, and then head down to the gym.

I somehow manage to spend two hours in the gym blowing off steam, and never for a second does the woman upstairs in my bed leave my head. The only reason I stop and check how long it's been is because my stomach growls - and suddenly I realize I never ordered breakfast.

When I find out how long it's been, I grab and towel off the rack in the corner of the room and head back towards the elevators. Ana should be up soon, and no doubt she's hungry too, considering she didn't eat anything last night and she puked all the contents of her stomach up.

I'm relieved to find that there's no one else in the elevator when I get in. I grab the bar along the inside and slump down as the doors close, leaning my head against the wall and closing my eyes. _This is it_. She should be awake and coherent, smart mouth active again. Am I going to be able to keep myself in check? God, I hope so. But then again.. Do I really?

The elevator dings, and I jump up as the doors open. _Show time. _

Taylor is sitting in the lounge area, reading a book. There's a shopping bag beside him. Oh, shit, I forgot - he said he bought the stuff I asked for, but he never did bring it to me. Good thing he brought it.

"Thanks, Taylor," I say in a muted voice. I don't know if Ana is awake or not, but either way I don't want to disturb her or have her hear.

"Of course, sir. I would have ordered breakfast too, but I don't know what you or Miss Steele would like - assuming she'll be joining you, that is."

"Yes, she will. I'll have my normal omelet - you know how I like it. As for Miss Steele.." I have to pause. I have no idea whatsoever what her diet is - besides her tea, of course. "I know she likes Twinings Breakfast Tea, bag out. In relation to actual food, I honestly have no clue. Order a small selection, would you?"

"Yes, Mr. Grey."

"Good," I say softly, then pick up the shopping bag and head for the bedroom without waiting for a response.

I knock lightly on the door to give her some warning that I'm coming in. She should be awake, but I have no guarantee. _Why knock anyway, Grey? This is your suite. _I push open the door and go inside, shutting it behind me. Anastisia is lying propped up on the pillows, her blue eyes wide and glazed. She must have just woken up. When she sees me, however, she closes them quickly and takes a deep breath.

I roll my eyes, but I can't help smirking as I say, "good morning, Anastasia." I pause, but her eyes don't open and she doesn't speak. Mentally shrugging, I continue. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I deserve," she mumbles, her voice soft and rough.

_I couldn't agree more, baby._ I don't reply to that, and instead walk over and throw the bag of clothes on the armchair across the room. Then I gingerly readjust the towel on my neck and walk back towards Anastasia.

Her brown hair is in a disarray all around her face, sticking up on top of her head and around. She has a serious case of bed-head... But for some reason, she seems to be able to pull it off. Her huge, speculative blue eyes watch my every move, and again the feeling that she can see right through me hits me full-force.

"How did I get here?" she whispers.

_How do you think? _She makes it sound like she has no idea what happened last night, but she has to. Christ, how am I going to explain if she doesn't? _Well, wait a second, Grey. Explain it to her like she does and see how she reacts before you get worked up over nothing._

I sit down on the edge of the bed by her feet and look at her. She's staring at me curiously with those huge eyes again. Shit... I feel a wave of lust wash over me and fuck is it strong. Now more than ever - especially knowing she's only half-clothed beneath the covers - it's important for me to maintain my composure. And yet... Now more than ever... I really fucking want her. _Get control of yourself, Grey! You can't touch her with paperwork - NDA and contract. You've got a long way to go before you play out any fantasies._

"After you passed out, I didn't want to risk the leather upholstery in my car taking you all the way to your apartment," I lie smoothly. "So I brought you here." _I brought you here because I wanted you here and I didn't want you out of my sight. And I always get what I want, baby_.

"Did you put me to bed?"

"Yes." _Who else would've? _

Her voice drops. "Did I throw up again?"

"No."

"Did you undress me?"

Her voice is barely a whisper this time, and I have to hold back a sarcastic remark. Instead I just reply, "yes," cooly, and watch with a raised eyebrow as she turns blood red in the face.

"We didn't–?" Her voice trails off, and she looks down at her hands, obviously unable to finish. _What the fuck? Is she really asking me what I think she's trying to ask me? I'm not a fucking rapist, Ana.. Nor a necrophiliac._

"Anastasia, you were comatose. Necrophilia isn't my thing. I like my woman sentient and receptive." Although that is putting it mildly.. And I did omit the part where I like them restrained and at my mercy.

She doesn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, she blurts out, "I'm so sorry."

I bite down a chuckle and instead give her a small, slightly humorous smile. "It was a very diverting evening. Not one that I'll soon forget," I tell her, dryly, trying not to laugh again.

She frowns at me and looks away. "You didn't have to track me down with whatever James Bond gadgetry you're developing for the highest bidder," she snaps irritably.

_Whoa_! Wait a minute here. That's a hefty accusation - not to mention an illegitamate one. "First, the technology to track cell phones is available all over the internet. Second, my company does not invest or manufacture any kind of surveillance devices. And third, if I hadn't come to get you, you'd probably be waking up in that photographer's bed, and from what I can remember, you weren't overly enthused about him pressing his suit," I growl icily at her. Of course neither was I - but that's not important right now.

She stares at me for a moment. I glare back. And then all of the sudden, she giggles loudly. _What the fuck? _

"Which medieval chronicle did you escape from? You sound like a courtly knight," she giggles at me.

A courtly knight? Ha! Entirely wrong metaphor... But I suppose that did sound old-timey. I can't fight back my soft, amused smile as I stare at her. For a moment, I forget entirely that I'm supposed to be mad at her as I smirk. "Anastasia," I say gently, feeling her name caress my tongue and savoring the feeling, "I don't think so. Dark night, maybe." I pause and shake my head, clearing my thoughts. _Time to get to business, Grey, playtime is over._ "Did you eat last night?"

She looks confused and she shakes her head.

Shit! I knew it! I feel the urge to growl and clench my jaw against it. _What a stupid move, Ana_.

"You need to eat," I tell her, almost acidly. "That's why you were so ill. Honestly, it's drinking rule number one." If you didn't know that, you shouldn't be drinking, let alone enough to fuck yourself up that bad. Before I think about it, I run my hand through my hair, huffing in exasperation.

There's a brief pause between us, and then she blurts, "are you going to continue to scold me?"

_What_? "Is that what I'm doing."

"I think so," she replies, shrugging.

"You're lucky I'm just scolding you," I shoot back, before I'm even aware I've thought the words, let alone said them.

"What do you mean?" she asks, curiosity in her voice, and I curse myself mentally._ What the fuck, Grey? What happened to your filter? Now she's curious and you can't tell her squat. Well... Not specifically anyways. Tread carefully._

"If you were mine," I say slowly, purposely not specifying what 'mine' means, "you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday. You didn't eat, you got drunk, you put yourself at risk.."

I force myself to stop there, although the list goes on and on. You drunk-dialed me, you disobeyed me, you were rude, you- ..._calm down, Grey. Maintain control_... I know I have to, but fuck, is it hard. I close my eyes and blow out a deep breath. My composure is slipping, I can feel it.

Unfortunately, the only thing I see when I close my eyes is Ana. And not good pictures - bad. My mind is shooting pictures from my imagination.. Pictures of Ana... And what could have happened to her if I wasn't there. A shudder runs through me as the images flash through my mind. _Shit, Grey! Stop before you give yourself a heart attack! _

I open my eyes and fix them on her. I imagine I look steamed, and in truth, I am.

"I hate to think what could have happened to you," I tell her, with brutal honesty that she probably can't even detect. And what would have happened to me if something happened to you. She scowls at me in return.

"I would have been fine," she snaps at me. "I was with Kate."

Yes, Kate. Maybe normally Kate would take care of Ana, and vice versa, but Kate was fucking drunker than a skunk. They both were. "And the photographer?" I shoot back, too pissed in general to even want to think the prick's name.

She thinks about it for a moment. _Ha, I got you there, didn't I?_ "José-" I feel the hatred bubble in me at the name I was hoping to avoid, "-just got out of line."

I snap back an answerwithout thinking about it. "Well, next time he gets out of line, maybe someone should teach him some manners." It's my normal train of thought - pretty much the same thing I would tell a submissive. Without the maybe, of course, but still... It's such a Dom-thing to say, a reflex of mine. I hope she doesn't realize-

"You are quite the disciplinarian," she notes quietly.

Did she really just say that? Holy shit. I may be in deeper than I was aiming for... And yet, I feel a grin spread over my face at the statement. She couldn't be any closer to the mark, and all I want to do is laugh at the irony of it. _Oh, baby, you haven't seen anything yet. _"Oh, Anastasia, you have no idea," I reply, grinning like a mad-man. And who's to say I'm not one? It's a safe bet from the dumbfounded look on her face that she isn't.

There is silence for a minute between us. She keeps staring at me, while I try in vain to kill my grin. Finally, I tire of the silence. "I'm going to have a shower. Unless you'd like one first?" I ask her, cocking my head. She doesn't say anything, her blue eyes wide and perceptive, locked on my face. _Oh, Ana - stop looking at me like that, would you?_ And suddenly as I stare back at her I realize: she's not breathing.

Christ, do I really affect her that much? And more importantly... Does she affect me? Yes, yes she does. My grin widens. Maybe there's hope after all.

Unable to resist the urge, I reach over and gently touch her cheek, tracing my thumb down to swipe over her bottom lip. I wish I could repeat the motion with my tongue. But no - I need to remain in control, of myself and her. _You only wish you could control her. _

That couldn't be truer.

"Breathe, Anastasia," I remind her softly, my tone commanding. She breathes in sharply at my order and I fight to keep my grin from growing even more as I stand up and turn away from her. "Breakfast will be here in fifteen minutes. You must be famished." _That's not an observation, either, baby._

She doesn't get to respond before I go in and shut the bathroom door behind me.

Once the door closes, I stop and slid down it. I'm not sure whether I'm relieved or disappointed to be out of her presence. On one hand, I very much enjoy her presence. On the other... Well, maybe I enjoy it too much. I need the space to clear my head. Showering is the perfect opportunity. _Oh, be honest with yourself, Grey - what would you give to have her in the shower with you? _

The thought makes me stifle a snort into my shirt as I remove it. _Way, waaaay too much. _

SHE'S OUT OF BED when I exit the shower.

Well, shit. I wasn't expecting that. My shower literally lasted maybe about five minutes - why couldn't she stay in bed?

She doesn't notice me immediately, it seems, but fuck, I notice her. She still has no jeans on, and seeing her look up and freeze, staring at me as if I'm the one that's not supposed to be there. Oh, baby... More images of her in the playroom flash through my head. Christ, what am I kidding myself? I would take fucking vanilla right now if she would just let me fuck her... I would be kidding myself if I said I wasn't aroused now and that Im not using every fucking ounce of self restraint in me to keep from bending her over the footboard of the bed and taking her from behind.

She stands there for what seems like hours and just stares at me with that deer-in-the-headlights look. If I wasn't so needy and irritated right now, I might find that amusing, but now it only serves to make me feel the need to restrain myself more. Holy Christ, what is she doing to me? I know I have to say something.

"If you're looking for you're jeans, I've sent them to the laundry. They were splattered with your vomit." Jesus, if I clench my jaw any harder, it might shatter.

"Oh," she mutters, taking on her submissive look. _Oh, baby, no - not in front of me, not now._.. My cock and my jaw tighten in unison. _Say something, Grey, anything - just hurry up and find a way out of her presence!_

"I sent Taylor out for another pair and some shoes," I blurt. Okay, that's omitting the rest of the stuff in the bag, but I needed something quick to say. Not to mention if I have to talk about her lingerie right now I'm going to combust here and now, whether either of us likes it or not. "They're in the bag on the chair," I add, prompting her to speak, or move, or do something when she doesn't respond.

She still seems unsure, but finally concedes. _Thank God_. "Um...I'll have a shower," she mumbles. "Thanks."

I open my mouth to reply, but I don't get to before she snatches the bag and darts into the bathroom. Jesus, that was fast... Mercifully, wonderfully fast...

I fall backwards and land on the bed, groaning into my hands. What the fuck just happened? Why did I let it? Does she even know what she just did to me? No - I think she was too embarrassed to see anything but the fact that we both caught each other in a state of half dress - me in a towel, her in her panties. _Oh, trust me, baby, I was hyper-aware of it too... Still am actually. _

After that I quickly dress and head back out to the lounge, but even as I see Taylor talking to the room service man and helping him set the table, I'm not really registering it. My mind is plagued, by one woman, one thing, one question in general: if that's how I react to seeing her in her panties, with her top half still clothed and covered, how will I react when I'm seeing her in just her panties?

Christ.. What the thought does to me...

I shake it off and nod politely at the room service man as he leaves. Taylor turns to me expectantly and I answer his unspoken question. "That's all for now, Taylor. I'll call you later."

"Yes, sir," he replies, and disappears out the door immediately, leaving me alone.

Alone. Now I'm alone, in the same suite as Miss Steele, with her naked through the walls not even twenty feet from me. And I have to get even fucking closer - fucking being the correct word if I'm being honest about the sinful fantasies running through my head - to tell and that breakfast is ready. _Lord help me... _

I really need to schedule some sessions with Flynn. Forget my earlier reservations - I need advice, and I know that for once he might actually be the one to give me the kind I need. I need a solution to these obsessions, severely so, and I need a plan to get me there. _That's his specialty, is it not? _I'll just have to remember to schedule an appointment soon - he goes on vacation in a few weeks.

I walk in to the bedroom and then swiftly make my way across to the bathroom door. She's not in the bedroom, so she must be in here. Sure enough, the shower is running.

I knock loudly so she hears me over the water. "Breakfast is here."

There's a brief pause, and for a moment I wonder if she's passed out in there or something. _Should I go in?_ But then she calls out her reply with a shaking voice, and I realize she's probably fine - I just startled her.

I turn to head back out into the kitchen when I catch sight of my phone. It's lying on the stand beside my bed, the screen glowing, which can only mean I have some sort of message. I pace over and glance down, and what do you know, there's a text from Elliot.

**Hey, bro! How'd things go last night? Kate's worried about Ana - she still with you? - E**

I roll my eyes as I type out my answer. Of course Elliot would be the one to automatically assume I got laid. Probably because he did.

**Tell Miss Kavanagh her roommate is safe and still with me. And last night went fine, although I was rather worried about Ana considering she was practically comatose. And to comment on your innuendo, I'm sure that answers your unspoken question. Not everyone sleeps with a woman after the first or second meeting you know. - C**

I press "send" and pocket my phone. Maybe that was a bit mean, but just the fact that he's still with Katherine now proves me exactly correct.

Walking back out and into the dining room, I settle down at the head of the table and pick up my newspaper. I always read these things, though I don't know why. There's never anything worth reading in them. It's more out of habit than actual desire to do so that I settle back and start reading.

I expect my phone to buzz again, but Elliot never answers me. Whether because he is offended or just - _ahem_ - preoccupied again at the moment, I have no clue.

I'm almost finished reading an article about some crashing publishing company I'm thinking about buying - which is the only reason I stopped to read the article - when suddenly I head Anastasia's voice behind me. Its low and croaky, barely audible, but I manage to catch something about Kate.

I turn in my seat slightly and look up at her, and suddenly I regret not looking at what Taylor bought for her before I gave it to her so I knew what I was in for. Her dark denim blue jeans are nothing new to me, although I love the way they cling to her curves and accent her ass. The shirt, however, is pale blue and perfect fit. The way the paleness complements her light skin tone... And the way the blue brings out her eyes... Those huge, innocent, startlingly perceptive blue eyes that are now fixed on my face.

Shit... My head is out of control today. To distract myself more than anything, but also to answer and soothe her worries, I say, "she knows you're here and still alive. I texted Elliot." More accurately he texted me... But oh well. She doesn't need to know all the details. It doesn't look like she wants them, anyways - she's making a face that tells me this is not good news to her. _Well, tough. You'll get over it._ "Sit," I order, pointing at a spot on the table and setting my newspaper down.

She obediently sits next to me and then looks over at me expectantly. What's she waiting for?

"I didn't know what you liked," I tell her honestly, "so I ordered a selection from the breakfast menu." Not a large selection... But a selection. I feel slightly guilty because I know we're not going to eat all this, but what to do now? As long as she ends up happy... The end justifies the means. However until then, I just smile my best polite, apologetic-looking smile and try to please her. _What the fuck... Wait a second.. She's supposed to try to please you, not the other way around! You aren't the submissive here, Grey! _

Apparently neither is she.

"That's very profligate of you," she observes, seemingly perplexed by the choice.

I wince at her observation. "Yes, it is," I agree, trying and failing to keep from sounding guilty. _Don't think about it, Grey. Focus on Ana._

So I do - quietly I watch her load her plate, taking a cautious bite of my omelet as she moves. Pancakes in maple syrup, eggs and bacon; I have to cover my approving smile with my fork. She digs in and I follow suit, allowing silence to spread over us for a minute. Finally I ask, "tea?" Mostly to break the silence, but also because I notice she has nothing to drink yet.

"Yes, please," she murmurs, and I catch my breath. No sound - she can't hear a sound. The way those words affect me, the way they sound coming from her - fuck, it's intense.

I barely manage to control my breathing and keep my face stotic as I hand her the teapot and saucer with the bag on it. Her hair swings forward as she leans forward and reaches for it, and I scowl as I notice it's darker than usual - wet.

"Your hair's very damp," I state irritably, automatically scolding her like I would any other submissive for such a thing.

She lowers her eyes and gives a slight shrug. "I couldn't find the hair dryer."

My lips turn down. The hair dryer is in the first drawer under the sink in plain sight. She probably just didn't look._ I don't like being lied to, Ana... _

"Thank you for the clothes," she adds.

"It's a pleasure, Anastasia. That color suits you," I mutter absentmindedly. My mind is racing in another sinful fantasy - how bad I want to punish her. Never, ever lie to me...

I'm drawn back to reality when she blushes and looks down. She's wringing her hands again.

"You know, you should really learn to take a compliment," I grumble, shifting slightly in my chair. Fuck - if she blushes and makes that submissive look one more time today... It has to stop.

Fortunately it seem to. "I should give you some money for these clothes," she snaps in response.

I narrow my eyes and glare at her. Okay, that just pisses me off. Why would she say something like that? What is she insinuating? I want to comment but she continues quickly on.

"You've already given me the books, which of course, I can't accept, but these clothes... Please let me pay you back." She smiles sweetly at me, like that's going to help her case. The answer is still hell to the no and if she keeps pushing, I'm going to get really pissed off.

"Anastasia, trust me, I can afford it," I ground out.

"That's not the point." She sounds exasperated. "Why should you buy these for me?"

Because I want to. Because I want to take care of you. Because I want you to be mine. The list goes on and on. So I give her the simplest, truest answer I can. And it goes for any discussion on any level about me on my Dom/sub/BDSM related activities. "Because I can." _What do you think of that, Miss Steele? _

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should," she counters evenly, and I arch my eyebrow at her. Maybe that's true, but that doesn't make a difference. I want to do it.

For anybody else, that would be reason enough. But not Ana. _Fuck, she's annoying sometimes. _

"Why did you send me the books, Christian?" she asks quietly.

Oh, not this again. I resist the urge to make an irritated sound and put down my silverware, leaning towards her and fixing my eyes on her face. If she wants to know, she should know. All of it. Maybe not now... But maybe now would be better to send her running for the hills anyways. Before I get too attached. I still can't say much - not without an NDA - but I can tell her enough to surmise the facts she needs to stay the hell away. For her own safety... And my sanity.

_Whoa, Grey. Start with the basics. Answer her question._ "Well," I begin carefully, "when you were nearly run over by the cyclist—and I was holding you and you were looking up at me—all 'kiss me, kiss me, Christian-" I have to stop when her blue eyes go wide and a soft blush spreads across her face. I give her a small apologetic shrug and continue, "-I felt I owed you an apology and a warning." There, that summarizes the easy aspect. Now to elaborate... This will be fun.

I run my hand through my hair and think. How to put this? "Anastasia, I'm not a hearts and flowers kid of man... I don't do romance. My tastes are very singular." Emphasis on very. That's not a strong enough word to explain how stuck I am in my lifestyle. "You should steer clear of me," I say, even as the words tear my heart. I close my eyes, knowing the pain is probably visible in them and I don't want her to see it. _Don't stop now, Grey. What do you have to lose- you've already given up most of it_. "There's something about you, though, and I'm finding it impossible to stay away." _Even if I'm not good for you_. "But I'm sure you figured that out already."

There's silence. I don't hear her chair move, or even her breathing. Is she still there? Has she heeded me so seriously, or decided that, based on my words, she hates me so much, that she ran out when I was lost in my thoughts or still ranting? Is she really that into hearts and flowers?

_No_! My eyes open and with a high amount of relief, I fix them on her. She's still sitting there, staring at me, eyes wide._ Oh, come on, baby - say something..._

"Then don't," she whispers.

_Holy fucking Christ! Did she really just say that? I can't believe it! _

I can't help the gasp that escapes me as I stare at her in utter disbelief. "You don't know what you're saying," I whisper aloud, my voice almost gone.

"Enlighten me, then," she challenges.

I stare at her over the table, utterly but delightedly shocked. _There is no fucking way in hell..._

She doesn't know what she's saying. If she did, she would never have said that. She'd be running from me. Especially if she knew my reasons. And yet...

Suddenly she speaks, surprising me. Even more surprising is the words that come out of her mouth. That gorgeous, smart mouth that now more than ever I want to kiss...

"You're not celibate, then?"

If I was drinking something, I would have choked on it. Thankfully I wasn't. I suppress a chuckle, despite the situation, and answer her. "No, Anastasia, I'm not celibate."

She blushes and nods. I shift again. _That blushing habit is going to do me in, one of these days_.

I can't take it anymore. She's only getting more alluring; harder and harder to stay away from. The only way I'll be able to make myself leave her alone is if she begs me to. And the way things look now, how my self-restraint is... Well... Maybe not even then. I can't keep this up.

_She asked for this._

"What are your plans for the next few days?" I ask her carefully.

She thinks for a second, and then panic takes over her face as she recalls the answer. What is it?

"I'm working today, from midday. What time is it?" she blurts.

Ah, work. I get it. She's afraid of being late. But I can't make myself care; my mind is one-track now. "It's just after ten; you've plenty of time. What about tomorrow?"

"Kate at I are going to start packing. We're moving to Seattle next weekend, and I'm working at Clayton's all this week," she replies.

_Ugh, dammit. That draws this out more... _

"You have a place in Seattle already?" I ask, surprised, and a little more hopeful than I care to admit.

"Yes."

"Where?"

She shrugs slightly. "I don't remember the address. It's in Pike Market District."

"Not far from me," I say. Thank God, that puts her close - and in a safe neighbourhood. _Nowhere like Pike._ I smile at the thought, noting the mundane turn our conversation had taken. "So what are you going to do for work in Seattle?"

She shrugs again, frowning slightly. I must be irritating her. "I've applied for some internships," she replies vaguely. "I'm waiting to hear."

"Have you applied to my company as I suggested?" I ask, knowing full-well she hasn't. If she had, I would have been notified immediately. I just want to see if she'll tell me the truth - and of course, find out why. _Why would you want her to apply anyway? No fucking the staff, remember?_

She turns red again. "Um...no," she admits sheepishly.

"And what's wrong with my company?"

She smirks at me. "Your company or your _company_?"

"Are you smirking at me, Miss Steele?" _Highly dangerous offense_. My palms itch suddenly, reminding me of course exactly what's wrong with being in my company.

She looks away from me, down at her food, her face flushed again. This time she bites her lip, and I feel my cock tighten again. Shit. I can't control myself.

"I'd like to bite that lip," I blurt, my tone rough and dark. Down the drain goes my filter.

She gasps. Her head jerks up. She shifts in her seat and meets my eyes, and I see her start trembling lightly as soon as she does. Oh, Christ - I scared her. She's going to run now, isn't she? I could swear she will, but she doesn't move.

"Why don't you?"

Holy fuck. _Run for your life, Steele, because a few more minutes in my company and you might loose it. _"Because," I hiss, "I'm not going to touch you, Anastasia—not until I have your written consent to do so." A dangerous, predatory smirk tugs at my lips, but I fight it down.

"What does that mean?"

She looks confused, but there's nothing to be confused over. "Exactly what I say." "_What did she think it meant?_

Sighing, I shake my head. "I need to show you, Anastasia. What time do you finish work this evening?"

"About eight," she replies immediately.

I contemplate. Later than I was hoping for, but not some ungodly hour either. "Well, we could go to Seattle this evening or next Saturday for dinner at my place, and I'll acquaint you with the facts then. The choice is yours."

"Why can't you tell me now?" she asks, and I can hear the impatience in her voice. If only she knew.. Anyway, didn't I just say I wanted to show her?

"Because I'm enjoying my breakfast and your company. Once your enlightened, you probably won't want to see me again," I tell her. I'm trying to remain calm and collected, but she's making it really hard.

"Tonight."

I can't resist smirking and raising my eyebrow. "Like Eve, you're so quick to eat from the tree of knowledge." It's a serious statement, but also a slight tease.

She smiles sweetly at me and I narrow my eyes, knowing something is coming even as the words come out. "Are you smirking at me, Mr. Grey?"

I ignore her except to dilate my eyes a little more and pull out my phone. I press the two button - Taylor's speeddial. He answers on the first ring.

"Mr. Grey."

"Taylor. I'm going to need Charlie Tango."

"Of course, sir. When and where would you like her?"

"From Portland, at, say, twenty thirty?" I try to speak to Taylor in military time. He understands it better. If I don't, he just converts it in his head anyways.

"Yes, sir, that should be okay. Standby at the bay?"

"No, standby at Escala."

"How long, sir?"

I eye Anastasia. It could take a while. Not to mention, she could decide to leave at anytime. "All night."

Taylor seems as surprised by this statement as Ana is. "All night, sir?" he asks, as she blinks and sits up a little straighter.

"Yes. On call tomorrow morning. I'll pilot from Portland to Seattle."

"Yes, sir. Nothing else?"

"Standby pilot from twenty two thirty," I add. Taylor concedes again and promises to get on it, so I end the call quickly, looking at Anastasia.

She's staring at me thoughtfully. "Do people always do what you tell them?"

That is such an innocent, but ironic question. I resist my usually snarky answer and just say, "usually, if they want to keep their jobs."

"And if they don't work for you?"

What is she really inquiring? I frown and shake my head slightly. "Oh, I can be very persuasive, Anastasia. You should finish your breakfast. And then I'll drop you off at home. I'll pick you up at Clayton's at eight when you finish. We'll fly up to Seattle."

She blinks rapidly at me. "Fly?"

"Yes. I have a helicopter," I explain. I really am feeling tired of explaining myself this morning. It will probably only get worse tonight.

"We'll go by helicopter to Seattle?" she confirms, sounding stunned.

"Yes."

"Why?"

I try not to roll my eyes, instead grinning at her. _You should know the answer to that, Miss Steele_... "Because I can. Finish your breakfast."

She looks down at her plate and frowns, then squirms uncomfortably. It's obvious she doesn't intend to listen. "Eat," I order sharply. "Anastasia, I have an issue with wasted food..." I know what it's like to be hungry, because of that fucking crack whore. I have no desire to see anyone else go hungry, and to see food that could be feeding the hungry wasted. It's part of why I invest so much into farming. "...eat," I say again, ignoring the memories.

Her jaw drops open. "I can't eat all this."

I run my eyes over the table. There is still quite a lot of food there. I frown and nod at her plate. "Eat what's on your plate. If you'd eaten properly yesterday, you wouldn't be here, and I wouldn't be declaring my hand so soon."

She frowns and starts picking at her food again. I sigh and look down at my own omelet, half-eaten, now cold. I wish I could eat it too, but my appitite is gone. I'm pretty sure it took of with my hope of ever keeping Anastasia.

I look up at her, and she smiling slightly, staring at me. What? "What's so funny?" I demand. I'm over here worrying about loosing her, and she's laughing at me for something I don't even know. She just shakes her head and looks back down at her pancake, not meeting my eyes again until after she's swallowed the last bite. "Good girl," I mutter, my mind on her misplaced mirth. "I'll take you home once you've dried your hair. I don't want you getting ill."

She nods, them gets up and leaves the table. I stare of into the empty air, at the door, wondering how long until I'll be staring at the one in Escala and trying to plot to get her back into it. No doubt it will have to be elaborate just to get her to agree to see me, after tonight. I sigh softly and move to pick up my paper.

"Where did you sleep last night?"

I roll my eyes and don't look at her as I answer. "In my bed."

"Oh," she mutters, sounding embarrassed.

"Yes. It was quite a novelty for me to," I say. The memory of her beautiful, prone, sleeping form lying next to me pops into the front of my mind, making me smile.

"Not having.. sex," she saying quietly, hesitating and stuttering slightly over the last word. I chuckle lowly, knowing she's probably blushing.

"No," I tell her, seriously, still not facing her. "Sleeping with someone." Then I grasp my newspaper again and open it, looking through until I did my place in the article I was reading and continuing silently.

I manage to finish that article and start another - to my surprise - that's about me, and some of my work at the farming unit. I skim through it until suddenly my phone rings.

I pull it out and frown at the called ID. This will be tedious - it's one of my business partners, from some long-forgotten-and-filed mission. They probably want something.

"Grey."

The conversation drags. I ask all my normal questions, making sure it's worth my while, when suddenly Ana emerges from behind me. She doesn't look at me as she goes straight over to where her purse is hanging, digging through it briefly before pulling out a hair tie. I watch her tie back her long hair as I draw the conversation to a close and hang up.

"Ready to go?"

She nods. I stand up and slip on my pinstriped jacket, check for my keys, and then twirl them around my finger and move around her. I open the door and gesture for her to go. "After you, Miss Steele," I say, but she doesn't move. She just stares at me for a moment, seemingly deep in thought, then slowly turns on her heel and walks out the door.

She walks a little in front of me, silently making her way down towards the elevators. I can't help but feel a little proud of myself as I watch her go - I didn't think I could, but I've made it this long. I resisted her, but on the same note, I've made it this far with her. She'll see the playroom tonight. All my secrets will be revealed, laid bare, but also covered by an NDA... Or will that be null and void if I scare her?

I sigh inwardly as I stop by the elevator, pressing the button and forcing myself to keep my arms flat at my sides. She glances up at me and I peer down at her in return, smiling a small smile when she beams at me.

We stare at each other until the elevator beeps, and I go in and lean against in the corner. She walks in and stands a few feet away from me as the doors close.

Instantly, the air changed between us. I was afraid of this - our proximity after this morning makes us way too drawn to each other in this enclosed space... _Don't look at her, Grey. You can make it if you don't look at her. _

But I can't help it - I hear her breathing speed up, and knowing that she feels it too, I turn my head just slightly, enough to look at her... And then she catches my gaze and - if I don't know better Id say she fucking did it on purpose - bites her lip.

_That's it. I'm done._ My control and equilibrium evaporate, and my composure blows.

"Oh, fuck the paperwork," I growl, lunging at her across the elevator. Her eyes don't even have time to widen before both of our bodies slam into the opposite wall with my weight on her, holding her there, and I crush my mouth to hers as I pin her hands above her head. I can't take a chance of her touching me, and anyways, I love being able to touch her soft skin and hold her hands again. Holding them down is even better - I feel like I'm back in my element.

I use my free hand to jerk her hair, barely mindful enough not to tug too hard and hurt her. She moans loudly, and I feel a growl bubbling up in my chest, but I hold it back because I'm not ready to release her lips and instead use it to my advantage: I thrust my tongue into her mouth and taste it eagerly. I'm vaguely aware of my erection and the fact that she's noticed it, but I'm too busy drowning in her to give a shit, tipping her head up and holding it there while I devour as much as I can of her mouth.

Christ, she tastes fucking amazing. Why didn't I do this before? Why did I resist? Some part of me scoffs at my wondering and answers, but I'm not paying attention to it - she affects me more than a bottle of the strongest alcohol and a few bottles of wine. I'm absolutely high on her, and I love it. _Love, Grey? Are you capable of that? _

"You. Are. So. Sweet," I gasp, putting a slight space between our lips to suck in some air. Written consent, boundaries and preferences or no, I fully intend to kiss her again... Until the elevator dings.

_Shit_! I push of her as the doors shoot open, diving back to my corner and holding my breath as more people enter. Three men in business suits step in between Ana and I, and I'm grateful for the company, more so than I've ever been in my life.

I glance at Ana from the corner of my eye. She's staring at me, trying to catch her breath subtly but it's absolutely hopeless and I know it. Speaking of breathing, my lungs are starting to burn from holding mine in. Slowly and softly, I let out a huff of air and take in another, regulating my breathing back to normal, and look away from her.

What the fuck just happened? How did my control just slip away from me like that? How could I let it? I know the rules, and yet I have just broken them so badly... Hell, not even as mild as broken - I shattered them royally into a million pieces.

The business men exit on the second floor. Ana and I have one more to go. I take a deep breath and lick my lips, realizing it doesn't taste like it should - aside from something mixed in there that is distinctly and undoubtedly Ana, there's also a hint of mint...toothpaste.

I turn at her and lift my eyebrows. "You've brushed your teeth."

"I used your toothbrush," she replies seriously, quirking a shoulder.

_Reeeeaaaally_? Before or after I used it, I wonder? _Hm_... I can't help but smirk. "Oh, Anastisia Steele, what am I going to do with you?" I tease. Yet, the question is serious... I do have to do something about her. That can't happen again, not even after the paperwork is signed. Assuming we get that far.

The elevator dings and the doors open, and I take her hand and pull her out. As I walk, I repeat the same question from a while ago, mostly to myself. "What is it about elevators?"

Of course, this questions is rhetorical. Because now... now I know.

**What'd you think of THAT? I don't think I did the scene justice, but, I suppose I'll let you guys be the judges of that. Was it worth the wait? Anything I should work on?**

**Please keep following, favoriting, and reviewing actively - it tells me you guys are reading and enjoying, so I actually work on stuff to post. You stop, I stop - after all, there's no story value if there's no audience. Right? **

**Until next time folks! **

**~Authoress of Darkness**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, long time no post! And even in spite of that, this chapter is still relatively short. Sorry guys. I've got a lot going on right now so time to write is had to come by. But I won't disappear completely, I promise. Or I'll try not to, anyways.**

**It's been a while since I've posted, so I'll cut through and give you guys your chapter... After a disclaimer. ;)**

**~Authoress of Darkness**

**Disclaimer: I do not own FSOG or any characters or publicly recognizable figures in relation to it. EL and co .own all. **

SHE WON'T LOOK AT me now.

The whole way down to the underground garage, her eyes are firmly glued to the ground. The gears in her beautiful mind are obviously turning, but in a good way or bad?

I hope I didn't scare her. She seemed fine in the elevator directly after, and briefly when we were alone, but is she? _Maybe it finally sunk in and she's worried you're actually going to do something with her, Grey. After all, you do keep making yourself out to be the bad guy - maybe she's worried that that will happen again... Or something worse will._

Oh, Christ. Why didn't that occur to me when I fucking jumped her in the elevator?

I need to keep my distance from now on, as much as possible, anyways. At least until closer to when we actually leave. I don't want to scare her away before she's even looked at the NDA.

I open the passenger door, making sure to leave a slight space between her and I. She climbs in the seat quietly, again not meeting my eyes. I close the door and sigh, moving quickly along to jump into the passenger seat.

Swiftly, I turn the Audi over and begin to back out. It's quiet, though - too quiet - so I switch on the stereo.

Ana jumps when the music blares out, but doesn't say anything for a while. I feel the air relax slightly between us, and I know it's the music. Opera music always soothes me. A lot of music without lyrics does. According to Elliot and my parents, it always has.

I sit back in my seat and let it wash over me, humming softly along. I feel a lot better now, honestly - Ana seems to be calmer too, and she finally speaks up again.

"What are we listening to?"

"It's 'The Flower Duet' by Delibes, from the opera Lakmé," I respond immediately. Of course I have it memorized, and Ana doesn't look overly surprised either. "Do you like it?" I ask, suddenly worried that she's not going to like it as much as I do.

"Christian, it's wonderful," she answers, not even thinking about it.

_She loves it!_ I grin wildly, feeling inexplicably happy that she actually likes it. "It is, isn't it?"

"Can I hear it again?"

"Of course." I reach out and hit the rewind button, all the while wondering how she would respond to this song in the playroom. Perhaps as a reward, since she likes it so much. But no - I don't think my Dom side would react well to that.

She listens silently for a moment, her face impassive, then asks, "you like classical music?"

Of course I do. Would I have it on in my car if I didn't? "My taste is electic, Anastasia," I tell her. "Everything from Thomas Tallis to the Kings of Leon. It depends on my mood." Understatement of the year. "You?"

"Me, too. Though I don't know who Thomas Tallis is," she admits.

Hmm... I wonder what music she likes, then. Her face gives nothing away. From who in what genres? Obviously not Tallis I suppose... Which actually is rather a shame, although bit a surprise. Another work to play in the playroom sometime.

"I'll play it for you sometime," I promise, with this thought in mind. "He's a sixteenth-century British composer. Tudor, church choral music." Man, I could make money off this kind of knowledge... If I needed it. I never will, though. And as long as I'm around, neither will Ana. I grin at her and she smiles tentatively back. "Sounds very esoteric, I know, but it's also magical."

The song is close to the end again, so I go ahead and reach out to switch it. "Sex on Fire" starts playing, for just a second, and then all of the sudden my phone starts ringing over the speakers.

I roll my eyes and frown, but click the button on my steering wheel to make it come on over the speakers. Nothing like flaunting what you got... "Grey."

"Mr. Grey, it's Welch here. I have the information you require."

_The information I require? Could you be any more subtle, Welch_? "Good. Email it to me. Anything to add?"

"No, sir."

I don't even reply to that before hanging up. The music comes back on. Anastasia is staring at the speaker, obviously deep in thought. From the corner of my eye I suddenly see her shudder, but before I can question it, the phone blares through the speakers again.

I restrain a sigh and answer it again. "Grey."

"The NDA has been mailed to you, Mr. Grey."

Hm. It's Andrea. I haven't ordered an NDA yet, so Taylor must have done it for me. I should give that man a raise.

"Good. That's all, Andrea."

"Good day, sir."

I hang up again.

The music is barely back on for a minute and a half before the phone rings again.

Holy fuck, leave me alone! "Grey," I bark, seriously irritated now.

"Hi, Christian, d'you get laid?"

Oh, holy fuck, do you not have half a brain? I answered him this this morning - and anyway, a filter would be good. It's really none of his business.

"Hello, Elliot—I'm on speakerphone and I'm not alone in the car." I sigh. Really, he's stupid sometimes.

"Who's with you?"

Who the fuck do you think? Who was with me this morning? "Anastasia Steele," I reply, rolling my eyes at my brother's short term memory.

"Hi, Ana!" Elliot chirps, and I know he's probably grinning.

Ana jolts, then replies, "hello, Elliot."

"Heard a lot about you," he informs her, and I resist my urge to groan and pound my forehead off the steering wheel.

"Don't believe a word Kate says," she orders quickly, and Elliot laughs.

Oh, Christ. I need to end this now. "I'm dropping Anastasia off now," I tell Elliot, emphasising her full name so that Elliot would get the message that I wasn't fucking her - yet, anyways. "Shall I pick you up?"

"Sure."

"See you shortly."

I hang up again. Thank God that's over.

"Why do you insist on calling me Anastasia?" Ana asks, after a moment.

Ah, so she noticed the emphasis on her full name. Well, no way I'm telling her the truth quite yet, so I just shrug. "Because it's your name," I answer vaguely.

"I prefer Ana," she retorts.

"Do you now?" I ask, just to mess with her. She scowls. "Anastasia," I muse softly. Her scowl deepens. My previous thoughts come back to me: _a beautiful name for a beautiful woman_. I sigh. The thought reminds me... "What happened in the elevator—it won't happen again," I tell her gently. She doesn't flinch at the reminder, so maybe she wasn't afraid. I add on, "well, not unless it's premeditated."

She doesn't reply as I pull up outside her apartment duplex and shut off the car. I wonder if she'll notice that I know her address even though I never asked her. Oh well - nothing to do about it now.

I get out and go around the car, opening her door for her and watching her climb out. I'm ready catch her if she falls, clumsy as she is. But she doesn't. In fact, if anyone is in any way startled, it's me, because as she gets out I see she's pouting slightly. But before I can ask, she answers the unspoken question. "I like what happened in the elevator," she mumbles as she walks past.

Oh, holy fuck! Is she serious? God, if she is, Id love to do it again, and it makes the hope of her becoming my sub seem all the more real. I try not to gasp, but it slips out. Fortunately I manage to hide my grin. _She still has no idea what she's talking about, Grey. Don't get your hopes up yet._

I shake away the thoughts and go in the front door, which Ana left open behind her. There's a short walk before I make it into her kitchen to find my brother and Katherine Kavanagh sitting at the table.

Katherine is hugging Anastasia when I step in the door to the room. She stops when I come in and frowns at me. I can see the look of suspicion in her eyes. It irritates me to no end - not the fact that she's suspicious of me at all, but the fact that she's right to be suspicious.

"Good morning, Christian," she says quietly - too quietly.

If she's going to be stuck up and formal, then I will be too. "Miss Kavanagh," I say politely. My own hostility is barely buried behind the formal exterior.

"Christian, her name is Kate," Elliot growls.

My gaze snaps to him and I eye my brother closely. Hm... He'd better be careful, considering I'm his ride out of here. Not that he'd probably mind staying... Oh, fine.

"Kate," I say, trying not to sneer as I nod to her. Bastard is lucky I care about him.

Elliot just grins widely as I turn back to glare at him, as then jumps up to hug Ana. "Hi, Ana," he sings brightly. She smiles tentatively back at him, chewing her lower lip. I fight back the urge to groan as I shift positions to cover myself and the response that elicits from me.

"Hi, Elliot." Her eyes flick back and forth between the two of us. Obviously, she's noticing the differences between him and I. What do you expect? We are adopted, Miss Steele.

"Elliot, we'd better go," I tell him.

"Sure," he agrees, grinning widely, then pulls Katherine close and kisses her deeply. I roll my eyes, knowing exactly what his game is, and instead look down at Anastasia.

She's staring intently at her feet, her face flushed that pretty shade of red again. She seems embarrassed - another sign of her innocence and lack of sexual experience, or just plain romantical experience for that matter.

She glances up at me after a minute, catches me watching, and narrows her eyes. I hold down my grin behind my poker face, a hard feat, admittedly. She's definitely getting to me.

"Later, baby," says Elliot, practically skipping over to me. I can't resist rolling my eyes at him. He's so over dramatic, honestly, but his playful and overly happy demeanor seem to please most women.

I turn to Ana, and resisting a sigh, I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. I know I have to leave now, but weirdly, I don't want to. She seems to share the same sentiments, because she leans her head into my hand. I humor her briefly, and trail my thumb down to touch her lower lip, but just barely before I force myself to tear my hand away.

"Laters, baby," I repeat, just to tease her, because I know she'll think it's funny, and and just as I hoped for, she laughs. God, I love that sound. Hopefully I'll still be able to hear it again after tonight. "I'll pick you up at eight," I say quickly, hating the thought. Suddenly the urge to leave and sort out my thoughts hits me, and I spin on my heel and speed out.

**So what do you think? Love, hate, want to kill me for not updating in so long? Anyway it goes I understand, but feedback is still nice. If people are still reading and want more than I'll try to update, ASAP. But if people aren't, I won't. So please keep giving me feedback if you are, and thanks for all the feedback I got so far! You guys are all awesome! :)**

**~Authoress of Darkness**


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